


Dancing with Fire

by SecretWonderland



Series: harry potter but dark and gay [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Canon-Typical Violence, Dancing, Draco Malfoy is a spy, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Harry Potter is a Little Shit, M/M, Narcissa Black Malfoy is a Good Parent, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, canon character death, draco deserves a break, goblet of fire friends, one second you'll want a hug the next you'll want to punch me in the face
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 148,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24430393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretWonderland/pseuds/SecretWonderland
Summary: He feels the familiar pull of Veritaserum right before the astonishment that his mother- his own pure and loving mother- used it on him. LuLu didn’t even warn him, the traitor. Luckily he’s been learning how to deal with the potion for a while now.Everything would be fine, except Pansy and Blaise have no training, and his mother is deceivingly good at brewing.Or the one where everything is getting better in his life until Harry's name throws itself out of the Goblet of Fire and Draco doesn't mind killing his friend if it means keeping him safe
Relationships: Cho Chang/Cedric Diggory, Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: harry potter but dark and gay [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706284
Comments: 140
Kudos: 405





	1. Rage of Mothers

“Do you know why blood contracts are rarely used anymore?” Narcissa smiles coolly from her cup of tea. 

Once, when he was younger, Draco overheard his grandfather call his mother the ‘Ice Queen’, and he hadn’t understood why. His mother is a breath of fresh air. Charming, delicate, warm and polite to almost everyone unless she has a reason not to be. She was always kind and loving to him, even the few times she had sent terror through his blood, she always ended with a hug. Sitting across from her and the other two pureblooded mothers put a new perspective on that nickname. 

“Since you answered so intelligently before, I believe you can understand why they’re so useless now.”

Mrs. Katherine Parkinson smiles almost as icily as his mother, but she doesn’t quite have all the malice behind it for intimidation. Belle Zabini, however, would make a fine interrogator. 

“As much as I’m enjoying the look on their faces, I think they’ll only be lost until we tell them, Narcissa.”

Her smile doesn’t budge an inch, if anything it widens. “I think you’re right. Do you agree Katherine?”

Mrs. Parkinson seems to have a fire behind her eyes. “Why yes I do. Will you do the honors?”

“I’d be delighted.” Narcissa puts down her tea like they’re merely catching up and not three seconds away from murdering their children. “You see, darlings, the issue with many binding bloodspells is in their names: blood. It’s a fickle thing, really. After all, we are the blood and flesh that created you, so by binding your blood, you’re really binding our- oh look! Draco has clued in! Can you tell us what this means, love?”

Draco stiffens in his seat. He hasn’t quite had time to process just how badly he and his friends messed up this round, or the amount of trouble they were in, but one thing was becoming scarily clear to him. Narcissa was right. Her blood coursed through him, he was a part of her for nearly a year, her blood was so intermingled with his and every person with a brain knows how much flesh was shared between a mother and a child. Father provided sperm and magic, but it was the mother’s body that built babies from within….constructed them with their own blood. And since blood contracts needed a willing person to sign with blood borrowed from their mother…

“When we signed the contract, you knew because of our blood ties.”

Narcissa’s smile is only a little crazed, “Correct! You’ve always been so clever, dear, and since we’ve deduced that the mothers in the room know about their children’s little contract, don’t you think it would be smart to tell us why the contract was produced in the first place?”

“I think you might have to be a little more forward than that.” Belle offers, and for a moment Draco can’t figure out what she’s trying to say. And then his mother’s grin turns wolfish.

“You’re right, Belle. Allow me to rephrase. Why did the three of you enter a blood contract?”

He feels the familiar pull of Veritaserum right before the astonishment that his mother- his own pure and loving mother- used it on him. LuLu didn’t even warn him, the traitor. Luckily he’s been learning how to deal with the potion for a while now. 

Everything would be fine, except Pansy and Blaise have no training, and his mother is deceivingly good at brewing.

“It’s because we were worried about Draco!”

 _Fuck._ Three piercing eyes glance at him while he glares at Pansy who gasps at the words that have left her mouth. Blaise keeps his hands over his lips, eyes wide and a little scandalized. LuLu just blinks as though this should’ve happened ages ago.

This is not going to end well for him.

“And why were you worried about my son?”

Pansy bites her lips but still is forced to say, “Because he’s-” Blaise snaps a hand over her mouth, meaning his is useless.

At least he has the sense to not talk about Draco being a spy, because instead his mouth opens and says something equally as bad.

“Because he’s male audiam!” 

Thank Merlin they put the Latin clause in there, it would be useful if their mothers weren’t fluent in ten languages. 

Narcissa’s eyes narrow, Belle and Katheriene look as though the plush white chairs they’re sitting in have been ripped from underneath them. It’s understandable, only a crazy person would dare to lay a hand on a Malfoy.

“And _who_ in their right minds would think of laying a finger on my son?”

As if by some twisted fate, Lucius makes the mistake of walking into the room with a dazzling smile. “Darling! Sisily told me we had guests, I do apologize for being absent upon your arrival, the Ministry can be quite demanding.”

Narcissa smiles at her husband, and then sees the way Blaise is trying to rip his lips off, the way Pansy is near tears with her eyes cast wide on Lucius, the way Draco shrinks away from the man striding past him. She sees LuLu rise up on her back legs in Draco’s lap, eyes and snarl trained on long blonde hair. 

“Darling?” Lucius asks, right around the time the witches by Narcissa’s side seem to clue in.

To her credit, Narcissa doesn’t even flinch. Her smile returns with full force. Draco has no clue what she’s planning until she stands to greet him and picks up Draco’s tea cup. 

The one with Veritaserum in it. 

“Sorry, dearest, we were just talking about how wonderful the tea I had imported from Italy is. Won’t you try some? I’d hate for you to miss out on something so delicious.” 

Lucius doesn’t suspect a thing. Draco feels an odd sense of pride at how easily and perfect his mother’s lie came. She truly is brilliant. His father takes the cup without suspecting a thing, one large swig later and he’s frowning. 

“A little too spicy for my tastes.” 

Narcissa takes a step back, a smile still unreadable on her face. “We were beginning a new topic when you came in, can I inquire your opinions on it? It’s rather delicate, yet extremely alarming.”

Draco would snort if it wouldn’t give her away. 

“If it troubles you I would love to ease your mind.”

Her back is turned just enough for Lucius not to see the way her eyes glimmer into daggers. The smile on her face seems more like a threat than the angry magic that’s starting to radiate off of her. 

“Perfect.” Venom seeps into her voice. “We can start with a simple yes or no question.” 

Narcissa turns on her heel to give Lucius the full force of her anger. Nothing betrays her until she speaks and the glass candle on the mantle behind his father shatters from her rage. 

“Have you been abusing my son?” 

Not even the other mothers dare to breathe, they can’t really. Narcissa’s magic flows out from her in violent waves that clog up their throats even though they’re aimed at his father’s trembling form. 

He tries to lie at first, Draco sees the cool expressionless stone make its way onto his father’s face. And then the idiot blurts out “Yes.” and Draco has the pleasure of seeing a flurry of emotions crack that mask he’s grown so used to. 

Confusion at first, then understanding when his eyes land on the tea. Panic follows those two before fear takes over. 

That might have something to do with the way Narcissa’s magic has turned from violent to down right murderous. 

“As pleasant as this visit has been, might I suggest you all take your leave now?”

Her kind voice leaves no room for arguments. Pansy and Blaise shoot him sympathetic glances and try to protest against their mothers dragging them from the room. The door shuts behind them with a deafening click.

Narcissa raises her wand, “Imperio.”

“Mother!”

She doesn’t spare him a glance, fully focused on his father. “You will tell me why you harmed our child- my child.”

Luicus’s eyes fade into an eerie calm, like following her voice and doing whatever she said would make him the happiest man on the planet. Draco half expects some long winded excuse about how important being a Death Eater is.

And then Lucius opens his mouth and says, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Or you won’t tell me?”

His father looks wounded, like the mere thought of defying the woman before him was worthy of death. “Of course not! I would never keep things from my dearest flower, but I do not know why I have harmed my little dragon. Much does not make sense, please forgive me if I have disappointed you.”

Narcissa studies him for a moment, and then, as if she had never cared about him in the first place, she says “You will go down to the dungeons and lock yourself in chains within the third room.”

Draco can’t hide his gasp but Lucius doesn’t even notice him. “Mother! You-he-”

“Floo Severus over and wait in your room.” Her icy grey eyes freeze him in place, “I am _most_ displeased this has been kept from me. We _will_ speak of this later.”

He turns and retreats before she changes her mind.

—————

Draco cannot sleep. 

Granted he wasn’t exactly _trying_ to, but how the hell did anyone expect him to sleep when his mother was alone with Lucius Malfoy in the dungeons? Sure, he knows how dangerous Narcissa is. He knows what really fertilizes their flower beds, how she casts Unforgivables the second someone she cares for is compromised, how, of all the people in their family, she was both the most dangerous and cunning.

But she was still alone with the bastard that tortured him and then pretended like he had no clue he’d done it. 

Lucius is strong, even if he is crazy. He could overtake her and do to her what he’d done to Draco over break. Excuse him if he doesn’t fancy the idea of his mother being beaten.

His imagination is, however, _very_ fond of it and kindly supplies him with vivid images of what could be happening.

So no, Draco cannot sleep, he has no intention of ever trying to, and he will continue to pace around his room despite the nervous glances he gets from the house elves that keep coming to check on him.

And no, he has not been counting the hours since he was sent to his bedroom, so he cannot pinpoint that it’s been seven hours, twenty four minutes, and thirty three seconds when there’s a knock on his door.

So maybe that last part was a lie. Not that it matters to Draco who sprints to open the door, pulling his mother close only to realize it’s Severus he’s captured in his arms.

“I’m pleased to see you too, but I didn’t think you’d be so….overjoyed.”

Draco pulls away with a grimace that matches his godfather’s. “If you don’t speak of it I won’t.”

“Deal. Now put on some shoes and come with me. I think your mother will hex us all if you get so much as a shiver when you walk.”

Bad. Her investigations had gone bad, then.

Draco does as instructed and follows Severus like a dutiful soldier marching off to war. Their footsteps echo like some sort of fucked up drums playing them to their death. They pause at the dungeon doors and even though Draco knows the paintings are watching, he still takes Severus’s hand.

“I’m sorry to take you down here, I wish there was another way. Trust me when I say your mother isn’t too fond of the idea either.”

He doesn’t miss the way Severus grips onto him tightly. “What does she know?”

“She knows what he did to you,” Is the quiet reply, “She didn’t say much else, other than you needing to be here. I assume she wants to save her breath and tell us at the same time.”

Draco frowns, “Let’s get on with it then.”

It’s not as scary as it is in his nightmares, but maybe that’s because the monster that usually lurks in the darkness is tied up, or maybe because he’s not alone this time. Footsteps don’t echo in his dreams. 

She’s sitting in a chair that’s definitely never seen the dungeons before, Sisily beside her and urging her to drink her tea. Tears stream down her face and when she sees him she stands so quickly Sisily almost drops the fine china.

Draco meets his mother halfway to happily melt in her arms.

“My little dragon….”

Her left hand cards through his hair, the right pulling him close into the familiar and calming lavender smell that’s been soothing him for as long as he can remember. Draco pulls back just an inch so she can cup his face. He reaches up to brush away the tears.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Narcissa shakes her head, “No, darling, I have a tight hold over his mind right now. I’ve put him to sleep.”

“You’re too kind….I don’t think I’d have that type of self control.”

He’s fully prepared to launch a Crucio at the first tuff of blonde hair he sees, and then his mother laughs. It’s a little breathless and has just a bit of a crazed tone, but it’s still laughter.

“I truly thought about torturing him for hurting you…..but I had to know.”

Draco raises an eyebrow that she smooths down. Narcissa steps away from him.

Lucius is asleep in the corner. He _must_ still have his mind controlled if he’s on the dingy stone floor in _that_ suit. Though Draco only has a few seconds to focus on his pathetic excuse of a father when he notices the family pensive right next to him. It swirls with silvers and blacks, and it’s exactly where his mother leads him.

“I’m sorry, so very sorry to ask you to relive it, but I must.”

Severus steps up next to them, “May I go with him-”

“I ask that you do. I’d rather die than let him go through this alone.” 

Her hand is firm in his, grounding and kind. It’s ripped away from him before either of them can refuse to let go. 

“When you’re back,” She takes his face in her hands once again, “We’ll take your friends and go to our summer home in Brazil. Just us and whoever you want. We can lay on the beach, go shopping, or even stay inside and play those games from your childhood. Whatever you want, darling.”

Draco leans into her touch, “What about Paris? You have duties there.”

“You will _always_ come before anything else. Your father and my duties included.”

Severus clears his throat and takes Draco’s hand. “The sooner this is over, the sooner you are free to indulge.”

“You don’t disapprove?” 

Severus looks at him with such kind eyes he can’t believe it’s the same professor that once called Longbottom’s work a ‘disgrace to the abominable piss presented as potions’. “If anyone deserves a break, I’d say it’s you.”

There’s a moment that he looks between them. His mother, kind and calm, tears threatening to spill from her perfect eyes, her chestnut hair still in the bun his father once told her was his favorite. His professor, still clad in black but not the robes that make him seem untouchable, rather a sweater Draco just knows is softer than LuLu’s fur. Both of them are nothing like other people know them to be.

He feels privileged to know them as something more. Something like a secret that draws them closer than friends. That feeling of family that extends to Pansy and Blaise as well. 

Draco nods, kissing his mother once on her cheek, and then pulling Severus with him towards the darkening water. 


	2. Into the Pensive of Lucius Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memory fades...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of y'all are about to want to hit me so i'll explain after the chapter, but trust me, if you look back you'll see it coming

Call him vain but dear Merlin did he really look like  _ that  _ as a ten year old?

Draco shakes his head, now is  _ not  _ the time. 

Lucius stands before him in the gardens, walking through white roses as though they did it everyday, and the sad part is they did do it everyday. Before everything went to shit he would look forward to those walks, talking about everything from philosophy to what they should have for dinner. Always twenty minutes at the bare minimum, and Draco’s pretty sure he’s looking at the last one.

Memory Draco is in front of Lucius, rambling on about how excited he is for Hogwarts, even though his letter wouldn’t be coming for another year. Lucius watches him with the look he hadn’t seen in so long….filled with love and happiness. He looks like Dad again, not something from Draco’s worst dreams.

And then he draws in a deep breath, clutching his left arm to his chest.

_ “Papa?” _ Memory Draco turns, quickly closing the space between them,  _ “Are you okay? Did the roses bite you?” _

Lucius laughs, though his eyes are tight and guarded,  _ “No, little dragon. My muscles seem to be acting up, shall we return and prepare for dinner?” _

_ “Mama will fuss if you don’t see the Healer”  _ Memory Draco pouts.

His father chuckles and tucks the boy under his cloak, they walk towards the manor.

The memory fades.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Lucius is in his office, head in his hands and a near empty bottle of rum on his desk.

_ You must protect him  _

Draco locks eyes with Snape, both searching for where the voice came from until his father gives a weak sob.  _ “I know. I know I must protect him….” _

_ Then why do you wait? Train the boy now! Before it is too late! _

Inside the memory the voice is loud despite the hiss that goes with it. Like a whisper in someone’s ear, angry, demanding, and sending a shiver down his spine.

_ “Train him? You expect me to force my boy in the same shit you forced me to?” _

_ I protected you! _

Fuck this is weird. Draco twists so he’s slightly closer to his professor. Apparently the voice is creepy enough for Snape not to poke fun of his cowardice.

_ “Darling?” _

All three of the men in the room turn towards the doorway just in time to see Narcissa poke her head in. She melts into a kind smile. 

_ “You’re late for bed…”  _ Memory Narcissa steps into the room, hugging her nightgown closer as she makes her way to Lucius’s desk. She doesn’t say anything about the rum, but she does cradle his cheek and swipe stray tears away with her thumb.

_ “What in Merlin’s beard could make my darling so sad? Shall I fetch my wand?” _

Lucius chuckles, pulls his wife close until she’s on his lap, and then buries his head in her shoulder.  _ “I worry for our boy, my love. What if we cannot always protect him?” _

Narcissa runs a hand through his hair,  _ “Eventually he will be strong enough to protect himself. Until then we will guide and protect him the way our parents never could.” _

Draco’s heart clenches at the sight of them. They hadn’t been so careless like this in so long. His father rarely had emotions now, and his mother was gone so much….but here in this memory it’s like none of the bad ever happened. Like when he woke up from this dream he would run down stairs to see his parents grossly flirting over breakfast. It could be home again.

_ Train him,  _ the voice commands.

The memory fades.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


From there he sees flashes of his younger self.

Memory Draco walking in the hallway.

_ Train him. _

Memory Draco eating breakfast.

_ You must protect him. _

A smile.  _ Train-  _ A laugh.  _ You must- _ A ‘Good morning’  _ For his sake-  _ Reading in the library.  _ He will die. _

Memory Draco holding out his Hogwarts letter.  _ “Father! Father, look!” _

_ Train the boy, or he will die.  _

They’re standing at King’s Cross, a wide circle between them and all the other students boarding the train.

_ “Remember to write, Draco. Classes are not an excuse to ignore your poor Mother.” _

Memory Draco laughs,  _ “I’d miss you too much if I didn’t.” _

Narcissa places a kiss on each of his cheeks, then stands to look between the two blondes on either side of her.  _ “I’ll give you two a moment.” _

Lucius thanks her, pulling Draco into a tight hug. Fuck he misses those tight hugs.  _ “Listen, Draco…”  _ He remembers this conversation as though it were yesterday.  _ “At school you’re going to meet many people. Your friends Blaise and Pansy will be there, and I’ve already spoken to Sir Crabbe and Sir Goyle about your protection, so you need not worry about our name causing you any issues…..” _

_ “I thought our name is something to be proud of?” _

_ “It is, little Dragon, of course it is. But there are some people who would disagree, and one person in particular who might cause you some trouble. It’s best to befriend him. Not only would it help you, but it would help the family name.” _

_ “You mean it wouldn’t make us look like the bad guys anymore?” _

Lucius nods,  _ “Exactly. Could you befriend this person for me, for your mother?” _

_ “Of course!”  _ Merlin, he looks more like an excited puppy then Harry does.  _ “Who is it, father?” _

_ “I believe you’ve heard the stories of Harry Potter?” _

Memory Draco’s jaw drops.  _ “No way! He’s gonna be in my year?! And I get to be his friend?!” _

Snape leans in next to him, “Tell me you weren’t really his fanboy.”

“I hadn’t experienced a Potter Headache yet, leave me alone.” Draco sighs back. And then he’s getting on the train and waving to his parents.

_ That boy will not protect him, it will not be enough. You must train him- _

_ “Enough.”  _ Lucius grumbles, much to Narcissa’s confusion. 

_ “Excuse me?” _

His father is quick to make amends,  _ “Nothing, my love! I was worried my stomach might growl in front of all these watching eyes.” _

_ “That’s what you get for skipping breakfast.” _

The memory fades.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s Christmas break, they’re standing in his father’s office, but instead of himself, he sees a younger version of his father.

_ “You insolent fool!”  _ That strange voice merges with his father’s,  _ “I ask you to do one thing and you fail me?!” _

_ “I-I’m sorry, father!”  _

Draco remembers this conversation, but he doesn’t sound like himself. He sounds like...like…

_ “You will be sorry.”  _

Lucius stalks to him, a mad glint in his eyes. 

_ “F-father? What-” _

The slap is so loud even Snape flinches beside him. He pulls Draco closer, neither of them talk about the blonde’s shaking. He’s still not over whatever the hell he’s looking at. Draco lived through this, he remembers this moment so well it hurts. The first time his father stopped being his father, he should be in the room. Draco verses Lucius, this is where it all began! Not his father and whoever the hell his father is remembering being there with him.

The memory fades.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He doesn’t know where they are this time, but he recognizes the boy that stood in the study and the man standing across from him. Abraxas Malfoy, his grandfather. Draco gulps.

_ “I’ve sent most of the family away, you know what this means I presume,” _

The boy nods,  _ “Is there no other option?” _

Abraxas sneers at him,  _ “No other option? You should be honored to follow in the ways of the Dark Lord, Lucius.” _

Draco sucks in a deep breath, Snape tightens his grip. The boy- his father- shudders. 

_ “Of course, Father.” _

Abraxas’s face softens a bit, more like the photos Draco’s seen around his home,  _ “It would be unbecoming of me to send you into battle without preparation.” _

_ “Preparation?” _

_ “Yes.”  _ Draco recognizes the voice the second his grandfather says,  _ “I will train you.” _

The memory fades.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Each time, he knows he was there, knows each interaction like the back of his hand. His father yelling at him, the slap that comes, the horror on his father’s face as his eyes clear. The anger when Draco doesn’t come home second year. The shame plunging Lucius deep into depression, yet he can’t get out of the cycle. 

Rage after the Quidditch match, annoyance when Draco talks highly of Dumbledore. Betrayal at the end of his second-year. 

At some point Draco realizes those eyes don’t clear anymore, if anything they get foggier. 

Even sadder is the fact that in his memories, it’s never Draco. Always his younger self, with terror written over him like a book. They watch every encounter, Snape getting more and more angry by the second, and then Draco comes home for Christmas break….They turn around when Lucius drags him to the dungeons. Watching it once is far more than enough, even if it’s not his face getting beaten, or his screams vibrating in the memory. 

When his father sleeps, he screams and cries.

The memory fades.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Inside Hogwarts now, on the third floor if the paintings are anything to go by. His father paces around the halls with a perfect badge glimmering in the candle light. Someone passes by him,  _ “Hold it!” _

The figure stops, turning around slowly to reveal a face Draco would smile at any day. Sirius Black, in Gryffindor robes and a sheepish expression.

_ “Evening, Malfoy.” _

His father sneers,  _ “To what do I owe the displeasure... You are aware that you’re out well past curfew?” _

Sirius grins,  _ “You are too, your perfect duties ended when Remus’s did. Being Headboy doesn't excuse you from the rules, or does your father think differently?” _

_ “Watch your mouth, blood traitor, or I’ll watch it for you.” _

_ “Lucius! There you are!” _

A young Narcissa runs towards them, throwing herself into Lucius’s arms. Draco turns away from the snogging session, muttering an ‘ew’. Snape finds it just as amusing as Draco finds Sirius sneaking away from the two Slytherins. 

_ “Darling! You let him get away…”  _ Lucius complains, but his mother just smiles.

_ “Who cares for one Gryffindor on our first night back, besides, you said you have news. I figured we should at least start out on the right foot.” _

Oh if only she could see the meaning of those words for what they really are…

Lucius cradles her face in the same way Draco remembers them doing since, well, forever. 

_ “I wish we could stay on this ‘right foot’ of yours….but, my love, I’m afraid this is the last time we can meet like this.” _

_ “What are you talking about, Lucius?” _

_ “I’m calling off our engagement.” _

Narcissa looks like she’s been slapped in the face by the softly spoken words. She throws herself out of the blonde’s arms, looking at him like he’s a stranger, not the man she loves. 

_ “Darling-” _

_ “What?”  _ She breaths,  _ “What the hell are you talking about? Call off the engagement?!” _

_ “It’s for the best-” _

_ “Do you not love me anymore?!” _

_ “What?!”  _ His father gasps,  _ “No! I will always, always love you!” _

_ “Have you found a better suitor?” _

_ “No one can compare to you-” _

_ “Then what, pray tell, is fucking happening right now? We’ve been planning this for years! It’s a few months after we graduate! We’ve been talking about this since first year, you asshole! What is so important that you’re willing to leave me like I’m some- some- some filthy-” _

_ “He’s making me take The Mark!”  _ Lucius’s whisper is barely heard over his mother’s rant, and Merlin Draco would probably kneel over if he ever heard his mother curse like that after years of telling him how ‘improper’ it is.

_ “He...your father?” _

_ “Yes…” _

Narcissa melts instantly, bringing the taller into her arms like it’s her born right.  _ “You idiot. Now you can’t call off the wedding. I won’t let you.” _

_ “It’s not safe-” _

_ “You think I care?”  _ She snarks back,  _ “That man tormented my parents, destroyed Bella, isolated and hunted Dora, he’s pushing Regulus to the brink of insanity, stealing away at Auntie Black’s power, killing Uncle Black….I won’t let him have you too.” _

They hear more than they see Lucius’s lifeless chuckle,  _ “My father’s already sold me to him….he’s been training me-” _

_ “Are those where your scars have come from?! Don’t you dare lie to me Lucius, I know what you and Severus talk about behind closed doors.” _

Snape frowns beside him.

_ “So...little Sev ratted me out, did he?” _

Draco burst out laughing, “S-Sev?! Your nickname was  _ Sev?!”  _ Snape elbows him, “Hush! We’re missing the conversation!”

_ “It’s not his fault that I’m more charming, you couldn’t resist my charms at that age, either.”  _ Narcissa is saying to a Lucius who is finally starting to look a little less dead inside. 

_ “I never could…” _

_ “Then it’s settled. We’ll be married-” _

_ “Narcissa. I won’t let you be hurt-” _

_ “And I won’t let you do this alone. I’ve been fighting by your side since the beginning. Every class you needed help with and were too proud to admit it, every campaign you’ve launched, every time your father beat you senseless, who has been there for you?” _

Lucius sighs,  _ “You.” _

_ “Then tell me how I deserve less than my place at your side.” _

_ “It’s not that! You deserve more! More than the darkness that I cannot escape! I can’t give you all of the world anymore, Narcissa! All I have to offer is-” _

_ “Yourself.”  _ She cuts him off, using the same dirty tactics she used to distract him from Sirius, and honestly, Draco’s all for his parents being happy but if he has to watch them snog more one damned time he’s going to gouge out his own eyes and-

_ “You are what I want. And if you’re forced into the dark, I will walk beside you to remind you of the light. Always.” _

_ “And what if we have children?”  _ Lucius whispers.

_ “Then we will protect them from both of our fates.” _

_ “Fates? Don’t tell me you’ve started to take Astrology seriously.” _

Narcissa smiles at him, like the years of struggles she’s doomed for are a problem for a different person entirely,  _ “It’s in my blood, you know.” _

The memory fades.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco almost starts to feel better when his eyes adjust to the forest. The last memory left him warm and hopeful. His mother wouldn’t force him to join the Dark Lord, there might be hope yet. 

And then a man who looks like That One Guy from second-year steps in front of his father. This man is taller, with skin as grey as gargoyles and eyes burning like a ruby. He’s drenched in black, but not in the Bat way Snape is. It hangs off him like tar, the air around him is hard to breathe even though a memory. Lucius bows before him, and it’s only then that Draco realizes he’s looking at the Dark Lizard Lord himself. 

_ “My lord...you called for me?” _

The Dark Lord- no, what was it Harry had taken to calling him? Ronald? No, that was Weasley’s first name. Rogue? No that was definitely not it, that was like an adjective for the beast, sure, but-

A snake-like voice sends a shiver down his spine that even Snape’s warmth behind him can’t soothe.  _ “I’ve been informed of your son’s birth….I gave you an hour together as a courtesy...so riddle me why you never even thought to inform me of his existence?” _

Riddle! That was the vermin’s last name! Draco’s so caught up in his small victory against a fearsome memory he almost misses Lucius’s slight flinch.

_ “I apologize, my lord, it must have slipped my mind….you know how the ministry keeps me, what I do for your cause.” _

_ “A cause your wife has not joined….” _

Draco can feel the panic vibrating off his father, he can only hope Riddle doesn’t know the man as well. 

_ “Did you not agree that it was more beneficial for her not to? To avoid more suspicion and bring more followers into your awaiting arms?” _

When he isn’t being an ass, Draco has to admit Lucius is a smart man.

_ “It is true...and you are such a faithful follower...I wish to bestow a gift upon you, my faithful Lucius.” _

If Draco can pick up that a gift from the snake creature before them is probably a trick, surely his father can too. Even so, when Riddle requests Lucius’s left arm, he holds it out. Draco’s never been allowed to look at that arm. He knows, of course he knows what’s on it. He’d have to be an idiot not to, but fuck the Dark Mark had never looked so awful before.

Riddle smiles like Draco thinks demons do, and then lightly brushes his wand across the mark.

Pain, instantly, surges from everywhere. So ingrained in his father’s memories it creeps onto their own arms. Draco vaguely hears Snape curse beside him, but he can’t even think over how much it fucking hurts. His father’s screams ring in his ears, Draco closes his eyes.

The memory fades.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s dark, wherever they are. Draco can’t make out a single shadow, but he can feel Snape’s hand in his so he doesn’t have a full out panic attack, although that may be part of the Calming Draughts he’s been prescribed to take every morning.

_ What will you do to protect him? _

That voice is back again, although it’s too muddled to make out who’s talking. It could be his father, or his grandfather, Draco swears he even picks up a bit of Riddle’s voice in there too.

_ “Anything. I will do anything to protect my son…” _

_ Then train him. Make him strong. _

Draco sees himself in his father’s arms, so weak and small. A fragile baby, with no one there watching his crib except Narcissa and Lucius beside her.

_ He must be prepared, as you were, when the Dark Lord comes… _

There’s so much love in his father’s tired eyes as he looks in the crib.

_ “The Dark Lord is dead, Draco is safe…” _

_ The Dark Lord will not die so easily, the mark on your arm is sure of that. When the time comes you must… _

_ “I will not hurt my boy.” _

_ Then you leave him to die. _

Draco watches himself grow like a blinding light until he’s in his father’s office, a few weeks before Dobby, when the abuse finally got worse. He feels more than he sees the horror in his old man’s eyes as he stares at his own raised hand and the red mark on Draco’s cheek.

Lucius gathers him up in arms that were once strong.  _ “Draco….my boy...I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” _

_ “It’s okay, father.” _

There’s horor in Lucius’s face as he holds tight to his son, to Draco. The two men watching the memory both feel the pull, the overwhelming desire to protect, the need to never let go.

The memory fades.

And Draco is thrown back into reality, with no idea how to face his still sobbing mother, or his father, still asleep in the corner as though he hadn’t just ruined Draco’s life all over again.

On the plus side, if there is a plus side, Snape is still strong beside him, so maybe this time he won’t have to face it alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, let's break it down, shall we?  
> 1) From the beginning, in the fic that started it all, when Lucius realizes he hit Draco he freezes and immediately pulls the boy into his arms and says "I am sorry, Draco, I don’t know what’s come over me", trying to explain that his mark is being weird. SPOIL ALERT there's a reason for that. He also makes it very clear that he thinks his son deserves the world, to the point that he's willing to stick his neck out to make sure Draco is in good graces with Voldy when he returns, so from the first chapter of the first fic we know that Lucius Loves His Son, even after he loses it, he sends Dobby to check on him, why? because he's been there, and is scared. Wouldn't you be scared if some evil maniac could possibly return and kill the people you love if they weren't ready for it? Narcissa has managed before, but Draco is just a boy.
> 
> 2) Throughout this series I've tried to show the psychology behind people who abuse others, because it is Twisted and Awful, but it happens and if anyone were going to do it, it would be Voldy. First we see Lucius in the phase of Dehumanization, he thinks less and less of Draco as his son and more of himself, and his father trained Draco in much worse ways than he did to Draco, so he's beginning to think of it as his father and him. Since he's never been a human, more like the Malfoy Heir, it's easier to think of himself as some creature, apart of the reason he tries to push Narcissa away in one of the later scenes of this chapter. This chapter also goes through his stages of Reluctance, where he does not want to hurt Draco, and both Official and Peer Encouragement, basically his father pressuring him into it and SPOILER ALERT the addition to his Dark Mark. Lucius never reaches the final two stages in which torture becomes the norm because Narcissa catches him and the day she lets someone hurt her son is the day she dies.
> 
> 3) i'll go ahead and tell on myself, i was debating between this and killing Narcissa later on as the final blow of 'Draco tries to kill his father', and as much as i wanted to write that, i feel as though the parents in HP didn't get a lot of representation, I never felt like i learned about what any of them went through, even though they faced a war with Voldy for much longer than Harry and crew did. They only truly fought a war for maybe a year or two, when in the second book we find out that Voldy has been killing people for a minimum of fifty years, meaning the kids parents and their parents had to be involved more than the books let on and I wanted to show what that does to a person. seeing the people you went to school with die and be driven mad by some villain with an agenda can't have made all of them happy, even if their blood was purer than gold. plus, in all honesty, i couldn't stand to kill my Iconic Ice Queen.
> 
> 4) trust me when i saw this does Very Much impact the plot, now we can have cute things like Lucius trying to make things up to his family, or maybe something awful happening to him, maybe an alley when no one else is around. he's important, and i know we all hate him and what he did is fucking awful even though i'm writing the damn thing, i want to let him try to redeem himself....but no promises lmao
> 
> anyways, i hope that explained it enough. if you have any questions let me know in the comments and i'll answer most of them. already working on the next chapter, wish me luck! <3 you all, be safe


	3. The Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What about our families?” Blaise asks quietly. 
> 
> He doesn’t get a reply. 

Narcissa takes him to the beach house within a day. She leaves him there, a kiss and a promise to return with his friends as soon as she takes care of his father. 

Part of him wants her to kill Lucius. The majority prays to Salazar that she can find a way to save him. It didn’t matter what way she used, what dark methods she had to dig up, anything would be worth it if they could fix him. If they could keep his father from the dark ways, maybe there was hope for everyone else.

At the end of the day, and yes the day was as fucked as his sense of humor, Lucius is still his Dad. The idiot who once fell out of a tree trying to get Draco when he wanted an apple. The moron who almost burned down the kitchen the time he thought he forgot Narcissa’s birthday, only to realize it was the next day and take her off to a different country until the repairs were done. The stupid man who took Draco swimming during a snow storm despite Narcissa forbidding it. 

The man that tied him to a wall and beat him senseless, only to cry himself to sleep for the whole ordeal. 

He wants to hate him, he _does_ hate him, but damn if he can’t stop remembering softer, simpler times. 

Draco ignores the fact that he hasn’t been able to feel anything since Snape brought him back from the pensive. He flat out refuses to acknowledge that he’s at a breaking point because if he does that…

The island is stunning, just like it had been when he was little, Baia do Sancho off the coast of Brazil. Full of white beaches and clear waters that Draco once liked to watch fishes swim in. They owned a part of it, big enough for a house, a private beach, and land to hide if one of them needed to use some more….exaggerated magic. 

He’s fourteen, alone with his cat, and in paradise. Maybe he could just stay here forever. Maybe if he begged enough, mother wouldn’t force him back into the shit show that his world has become, and maybe the guilt of leaving Harry to die wouldn’t be that bad after all. 

Draco honestly expects to feel a lot worse when he realizes Harry is being abused and he was saved. It should be the other way around. Harry should be saved, he deserved it more, needed it more than Draco did. But Draco is still on the fucking island. 

House elves come and go. The first day they leave fruit and plates of his favorite foods. They urge him to eat, urge him to shower, urge him to sleep. 

He doesn’t. 

Draco stays perched on the back porch, watching the water and only moving when someone- probably Sisily- forces him to sit down. A blanket is thrown over his shoulders. An elf starts a fire nearby. Draco ignores them. LuLu stays by his side, on a little chair of her own. Sometimes he feels her weight on his lap, but eventually he can ignore that too.

See, the cool thing about watching water is that it’s always changing. When he gets there at five in the afternoon the first day, he gets to see the sunset over a calm beach. Water is blue, clear, or green. He’d always known that. But that evening the water was red. Fading into purple, some pink at the very edges. Where the sun disappeared into the sea, it was burning yellow. 

During the night it seems black, but it’s really a dark navy. Giant fish jump out and try to reach the moon. It’s full….he wonders if Lupin is doing okay. The sea winks at him like some type of dark abyss. He doesn’t notice the chill until another blanket is added. 

On the first morning the sky is periwinkle, soft like a hug from his mother. It turns the sea into an even soft blue he wants to drown in. As the sun rises he can see the other islands in the distance. He ignores them. 

The second afternoon Draco finds himself staring blankly into the water, there’s a loud whoosh and an elf appears to tell him people are there. He doesn’t register _who_ it is until very familiar arms lift him out of his beach chair and carry him to the living room. 

“You’re lucky the elves thought to cast protection charms, you hate being sunburnt.”

Draco knows he should shrug or at least _try_ to respond, but he still can’t figure out who the familiar arms belong to. 

“How long has he been out there?” A different voice whispers. Lighter, friendly, comforting. He knows the voices, if only he could place them. 

“Since he arrived, Miss Parkinson.”

“What?!” The voice nearest asks. He’s sat on the couch, in the back of his mind he notes that it _is_ slightly more comfortable than his chair. 

Two faces come into view. One dark and flawless, hair short yet still curling, eyes narrowed, lips in a thin frown. Draco doesn’t care for the frown on the boy, it makes him feel _something_ and he really can’t handle that right now, thanks. The other is pale with pink dusted cheeks, long hair tied into a bun, eyes wide and scared, teeth biting into a lower pale lip. Draco doesn’t like that either, why are they upset? Doesn’t she know that if you bite your lip it can bleed? No one likes a bleeding lip. 

A few seconds pass and it’s then that he realizes _who_ is staring at him. As soon as recognition hits his eyes they’re pulling him in for a hug. 

“Pans...Blaise…”

He wants to wince at his voice but he doesn’t have the energy to, much less to clear his throat and make it seem like he _hadn’t_ been staring into nothing for the past two days. Has it been two days? He hopes it’s only been two days. Fuck, what if it’s actually been two weeks and his mother-

“Your mother sent us here to check on you...she gave us a letter, but we didn’t want to intrude.” Blaise mummers. 

“Give it to me” 

Pans shakes her head, her hair feels nice on his arms. Like a faint tickle that he doesn’t feel an urge to scratch. “Not until you’ve eaten.”

“And slept.”

“And showered, I adore you but you stink, love.”

He can’t smell it between the two of them. Blaise’s sandalwood and Pansy’s jasmine take over his senses and he’s completely fine with that. But then he catches hints of sweat and the madness of it all sends him laughing straight into his friends. 

Really! His mother could be dying, no one knows what the _fuck_ is happening to his father, and they’re worried about his _smell?!_

Apparently laughing is _not_ the right move, as he’s quite literally picked up and forced into a bath. Blaise stays in the room with him, sitting and petting LuLu on a bench by the tub while an elf- he’s really got to learn their names, Hadbey, maybe?- washes his hair and chest. Draco finishes the rest like some weird spell had come over him, Blaise promises not to look but once a towel is wrapped around Draco’s waist, he does. 

“Oh, chéri….” 

Eyes linger over every scar, every cut, every bullshit thing he had endured the past few years. Draco rolls his eyes, “Did your mother take you to France after the blow up?” 

Blaise doesn’t answer, but he does step closer and trail his fingertips over the lines on Draco’s chest. Those hands don’t stop even when Draco starts to shiver and get goosebumps, and then he’s in Blaise’s arms against a soft silk shirt that badly hides the muscles underneath. 

“She did, take me to France I mean. She hasn't gotten a new husband yet, I think the whole blood contract thing is getting to her, but she’s happy I have people to protect me, even if she did curse me in every language I know, and a few I don’t.”

That draws a snort out of Draco. Off hand he knows most the languages Blaise knows, all the pure bloods learn the basics. English, French, Italian, Spanish and German. Some of them went further, he and Pansy both know Latin and Portuguese. Some of his cousins know Japanese and Chinese, Hebrew and Korean. When your family has businesses and relatives all over the world you just pick up on things. Language and etiquette was just a part of life. Or it had been before he turned eleven. 

Some time during his thoughts he’d managed to get dressed. When he came back to his head Blaise was leading him down the grand staircase to the dining room. Without his shoes it feel weird, but then again he wasn’t being abused like his parents probably were, so why did shoes matter? 

Pansy waits for them, arguing softly with Sisily over tarts. 

“I’m telling you,” his friend is saying, “lemon tarts are his favorite!” 

“And Sisily does not mean to be being disrespectful, but Master Draco be loving lemon _and_ chocolate. Miss Pansy be loving strawberry and Mister Blaise be loving turtle and caramel. That is why we put them all out, ma’am.”

Pansy huffs, but does pop a tart in her mouth, “You’re very kind, Sisily, but Draco needs more love and special treatment than Blaise and I.”

“Blaise needs just as much attention, thank you very much.” 

Draco snorts beside his friend, quickly taking a seat before Pansy can react. She takes his hand, glaring at Blaise as he sits beside her. They don’t bother fussing at LuLu for hopping onto her own chair.

 _“No_ he does not.”

He can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes, “Thank you, Sisily, for all of us.” 

The elf bows deeply, vanishing with a crack and a faint smile. 

This dining room is very different from the one at the Manor. It’s smaller, filled with plants and windows that overlook the sea. The table itself is round, feels closer and more like something a family would eat at. Instead of thirty chairs there are only five. Draco likes it more, not that his personal taste has much of an effect on his home back in England. 

“Eat, Draco.” 

Food is before him, he doesn’t feel hungry but three sets of eyes stare at him so he picks up his fork. 

The meal is quiet but comfortable, no one asks any questions, no one stares too long. Blaise tells them about his two day adventure in Paris, his mother’s summer home that they escaped to just encase Narcissa got pissed and came for them. Mrs. Zabini didn’t ask anything, just made sure he was being safe. His punishment was a weekend with no English, but at least his French was sounding a lot better. 

Pansy had gotten an interrogation that lasted all of ten minutes before her mother kindly reminded her father that the Malfoy family was important, and that she should be honored to be so close to Draco. 

“Imagine thinking you two brats are honorable….”

Draco laughs. 

They take him upstairs after dessert, where Pansy consumed at least ten strawberry tarts and Blaise an equal amount of turtle and caramel ones. Since childhood the three had always come to this house during the summer. Even though it’s been a few years, they can still lead him directly to his usual room. Only they don’t leave this time. 

Pansy brings lemon tarts with her, Blaise changes in a different room and then they’re all in pajamas, laying on Draco’s king sized bed, eating tarts and watching some book Blaise brought that no one is really paying attention to. LuLu works her way into the middle of Pansy and Draco, curling up in a small ball like always. A small hand cards through his hair, a big hand rubs his back, a ball of warmth purs on his stomach. 

Draco falls asleep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_My Darling Dragon,_

_Do not be alarmed. Taking care of your father is proving harder than I expected. We’ve called in an old friend of mine, a mind healer. Apparently there is a connection between the addition to his mark and why his memories are so mismatched. He is no longer dangerous as our dear snake and I have removed his wand, but he does call for us in his sleep. I am glad to have sent you away, witnessing him like this is heartbreaking at best._

_I cannot condone what he has done to you, curse or not. You are my child first and foremost and though I remain collected, I assure you the rage burning in me every time I lay my eyes on him nearly drags me to dangerous actions, hence the need for help. I adore you more than I pity him, and though I’m sure we both hope for the best, should the worst happen, understand that you will be at the front of my mind._

_This being said, I need to make it very clear that the darkness that has taken hold of this family has run its course. I will not allow it to ruin you as it has ruined your father. We will speak more once I am able to join you in person, until then rest assured that I am safe, your father is healing, and our friendly snake is here to keep a watchful eye over us both._

_I love you, and will be with you shortly,_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Mother,_

_My friends have joined me here, I am no longer in despair as they refuse to leave my side even as I write this letter. They keep me fed, well rested, and one of them, I won’t name names of course, forced us out into the water this morning. It feels as though I am a child again, for this I am thankful._

_Truly I wish to know more of the occurrences troubling you and father. I’m sure our friendly snake is taking good care of you, but I long to see him, or you, just to know that the safety you speak of is certain. Correct as always, I do wish for the best, but what is done cannot be undone. My emotions on the matter are not as prominent as the logical thoughts that remind me of how important he is to our family. Should, as you said, worse come to worst, I can only hope we find a way to overcome it, whether that be two or three of us._

_I love you more and wish to see you as soon as time allows it,_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_My Darling Dragon,_

_Soon we will be together as we once were. Until then stay strong. If not for yourself, then for your friends. If not for your friends then for me, your family._

_We are Slytherins through and through. We are not weak, we will use our cunning to our advantage, even if it comes with a cost to others. Remember this as you wait for more._

_I love you most,_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Two months pass on the island, they’ve fallen into a routine of sorts. In the morning Pansy will wake them all up and demand they go down to the water, it usually takes at least ten minutes before Blasie and Draco cave, but they always do. LuLu stays behind, one afternoon in the water proving to be the one thing she hates more than being outside.

It shows in their skin, Pansy developing a nice tan and light freckles breaking out on Draco’s almost not ghostly cheeks. Blaise makes fun of them for getting burned, they go inside. 

Breakfast is always light, fruits and toast, sometimes eggs and coffee. They’ll change it up from there, sometimes homework, sometimes experimental brewing in the cauldron on the second floor, sometimes running just to see who can last the longest, sometimes laying around and doing their own things. Blaise will read, Pansy will paint, and Draco will play piano or mess around with LuLu. He hasn’t been alone since they arrived, and he finds he doesn’t mind it anymore. 

Blaise drags them into town during the evenings, sometimes shopping, other times to make fun of the weird things in muggle shops, sometimes to libraries that Pansy and Draco get bored of within five seconds. 

At night they eat a small dinner then shower and lay in bed. Sometimes they go night swimming in the ocean or the pool, sometimes they watch books, sometimes they play with magic. Draco’s transfiguration has gotten a _lot_ better this summer, and no one is stupid enough to try _him_ for underage practice. 

They’re returning from an afternoon of water magic when he sees her. Leaning against the rails in a pale green sundress, hair blowing in the wind, Sisily by her side with a wide smile. 

“Mother!” 

She draws all three of them in for a hug as soon as their feet hit the porch steps. 

“Hello, darlings. It’s a bit hot outside, isn’t it?”

They go in, Sisily makes tea, Draco takes his place on the couch between his friends, LuLu protectively in his lap. Narcissa sits opposite to them. No one speaks for the longest time, he has this unshakable urge to reach out and hug her again, to sit next to her, or in her lap like he did when he was little. Just to be close. 

Narcissa raises her tea cup. 

“I’m assuming Draco told you all what happened the night of your visit? It’s okay to be honest, he’d be an idiot to try and keep secrets from you two at this point.”

Blaise and Pansy nod, they don’t drink their tea. 

“Good. What Lucius has done is unforgivable, I’m ashamed to let it get this far, but…. Well. Allow me to start from the beginning.”

“After Snape and I sent Draco away, he started experimenting on Lucius. You all know my husband has the Dark Mark, it was forced on him at a young age. But his is unlike the others I’ve seen, there is a flower-“ She swallows- “a narcissus flower. I won’t divulge the importance of that, you all are smart children, you can figure it out. It twists with the serpent and forms a crown on the skull. Severus and I each had our own ideas about it, but only after we spoke to a mind healer did we figure it out.”

“The Dark Lord placed a sort of spell on him, a form of the Imperius Curse, but one that brings up past memories so the person in question has no idea of the reality around them until much later. It is meant to confuse and torture the effected’s mind to insanity. Severus says it’s called _imperium summa_.” 

Pansy gasps, “The curse of Total Control?!” 

“Yes,” Narcissa raises an eyebrow, no doubt where Draco got that annoying trait, “But I’m curious as to how a child knows about it?” 

Pansy has the decency to look slightly ashamed, “My father came across it in a case a few years ago when a man murdered his wife. The curse is said to deactivate during the caster’s death, though the whole point of it is to drive the victims to suicide at the horrors of their own actions. Memories from their past are enough to act as time blocks, even if the memories aren’t strong. When they are powerful, it’s said to make the curse work faster. Usually it takes years to activate….”

Narcissa nods approvingly, “You’re correct, Pansy dear, so there are some things to fill out. Firstly, Draco, your father is recovering right now from the removal. It was painful, and he has suffered, but Snape and a few….friendly people managed to rid him of the flower.”

“What happened?” Draco demands, “He tortured me, mother, I deserve the full truth.”

Narcissa takes a long sip of tea before casually saying, “Oh, we brought him to the brink of death a few dozen times.”

All three of them choke on absolutely nothing.

“On the last try we left him dead for exactly one minute and then brought him back, positively ruined my new plans for the dungeons.”

Draco gapes at her, Blaise and Pansy similar pictures beside him. “You- You killed him?!”

“We brought him back.” Is the dignified response.

Her words don’t change the amused look growing on Draco’s face.

“He’s fine, darlings. Recovering like death was never even an option in the first place, cocky bastard.”

“Mother!” 

Narcissa rolls her eyes, taking another sip of tea before recrossing her legs. “We have more important things to discuss than me killing your father.”

“I’d like to disagree-“

“Listen to me.” She growls, “Pansy said it herself, the curse vanishes after death, the Dark Lord gave the curse to your father. Do you know what this means? The Dark Lord is _alive!”_

His friends suck in air beside him, Draco has to bite his tongue to keep from saying ‘I could’ve told you that’. 

“He accelerated the curse on your father, he’s gathering forces, you and all your friends and peers and not _safe!”_

Pansy’s death grip on his hand is starting to hurt but it’s nothing compared to the grip Blaise has. Narcissa suddenly looks tired, worn down, afraid. 

“What about our families?” Blaise asks quietly. 

He doesn’t get a reply. 

The air in the room filters out around his mother’s silence. And then she sighs. 

“You all have sworn a contract, correct?” 

Draco nods, not trusting his friends after last time. 

“Does it forbid you from speaking of secrets?” 

“Yes. If any of us try to tell something we’re not meant to, our mouths are sewn shut until one of us can fix it.”

“Can you write anything?” 

“No.”

Narcissa looks around the room, and then to all their growing concerns, casts several spells Draco knows are meant to keep voices from listening. Like locking them all in the tiny room and not letting a single syllable out. 

“I don’t have long and I cannot explain fully, but you all must be careful. Blaise, your mother is working with me to protect the pureblood children. We’ve gone over several ideas. We’re trying to warn others we know want no part of the war, those who want to fight for the side of the light. It is not as black and white as history would have you believe. For now, when you go to school this year, distance yourself from those who speak highly of the Dark Lord. You must be safe, you cannot be accused, and you must be smart about every move you make.”

Since Blaise and Pansy are probably too busy figuring out what the fuck is going on, Draco is the one to ask what they’re all thinking. “I thought you were on the Dark Lord’s side?”

Never in his life had he made his mother angry. Annoyed? Of course. Frustrated? That’s a given. Sad? Due to recent events, likely. But never in his whole life has he seen the dark look that crosses her face directed at him.

“That... _thing_ is the worst type of monster. He treats his allies like idle toys, and I’d sooner die than hand my child over to the fate most of my family suffered. They did not find glory with him, they found insanity and pain. Those who fought with him tell lies about who he was, about what he did. Do you know the fate of a Death Eater? It is to be tortured into complete submission and humiliated for the rest of your life. We were _children_ when we were dragged into this disaster, and I will _not_ allow my children to be forced into it again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all know god, Narcissa Malfoy.  
> not to be insecure but I wrote like three different versions of this chapter because I thought they were all awful lmaoooo  
> also, on an unfortunate serious note, I know the world is shity and very fucked in some places right now, and because i'm poor and work too often to be of much use, I'm going to try and update as much as I can. I know some people use fics as an escape, so I'm literally going to be writing more and more and trying to update more often so the people who need time away can get it. Stay safe, stay protected, and stay informed. I love you all so very much and hope my writing can be of use to you.


	4. Importance of Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa stares at him with wide eyes for a second before she’s laughing. Bending at the waist and almost to the point of snorting, and then she moves forward, completely disregarding her wand and hugging him so hard he nearly suffocates. 

Logically he should feel annoyed. 

Draco’s spent the better part of the past four years annoyed, pulling on the emotion should feel easy by now. Being annoyed is like breathing for him, his go to, comforting, almost always constant annoyance. It’s in his  _ nature  _ to be irritated. So, why the fuck doesn’t he feel irritated now?

Lucius remains oblivious to him. Narcissa had him put in the first guest room on the East Wing, the side of the manor that rarely gets warm because no one has been there since before the first Wizarding War. Could be a blatant ‘fuck you’ if not for the millions of blankets in the room, or the warming charm he knows the doctors cast on the room, because his mother certainly didn’t do it. 

Draco has to admit that his father does look a little uncomfortably grey; intense eye bags, matted hair, a scar or two peeking out from under the mound of covers. 

Logically, he should at least feel annoyed.

The man in the bed stirs, they lock eyes. 

Draco turns around and walks out the door feeling nothing.

Narcissa had drug them all home after their talk, which really just felt like a threat to be on their best behavior after the mess of last year, and naturally when she said ‘Don’t go in the East Wing’ he had to immediately go and visit the stupid frigid place. Rookie mistake to go in wearing shorts, but curiosity has always been a downfall of his.

LuLu trails after him, trotting down the hall like she owns the damn place, which in all fairness he supposes she  _ does.  _ The house elves go out of their way to be nice to her. His mother loves her. He adores her. Lucius is terrified of her, and that’s really all she needs to win anyone over. 

Two days later, just as he’s coming inside from an afternoon of flying, he catches Snape leaving.

“Severus!” 

Beady black eyes look over a black clad shoulder, “Draco. How good to see you returned safely.”

“Care to take a walk with me before you leave?”

It’s not like he can say no.

They stroll through the gardens, quite at first until they reach the limit of the eavesdropping spells he knows are there after one fatal rant that was supposed to be between him and the stars and somehow ended with an awkward conversation between him, Lucius, and his mother.

“Tell me the truth, how bad it is?”

Snape sighs, “Well it’s not  _ good,  _ but there is still no signs saying he’s at large again. I know you’re worried about your family, however, I need to remind you that the safety of-”

“I know. He’s who I’m worried about, why I’m asking you if I should be concerned, or form a plan of action for when he inevitably gets into some sort of life threatening trouble,  _ again.” _

“If you will let me finish,” Snape glares, “I was going to say that his safety is still not one person’s responsibility alone. There is a team of us, not just you.”

Draco doesn’t reply. He stares out into the field of plants around him and prays to Merlin that Snape is right. That he won’t be the only one risking his life for fucking Harry damned Potter this year. Even if they are friends now, that only makes the headaches worse. 

“What did your mother say?” Snape asks after a while.

“When?”

“When she retrieved you and your friends from the island, she must have given you a talk if you’re worried about the Dark Lord-”

“Riddle. Call him Riddle, he’s less scary that way.”

Snape gives him a look, Draco shrugs.

“I’m not agreeing with him, but our little hero claims there’s no need to give into the fear of a name. His name is Tom Riddle, are we not supposed to call a man by his name?”

That gets him a nod, but Snape still doesn’t speak so Draco gives in and tells him all about their little beach trip that ended far too soon for his liking, there were still three weeks left of summer, and he had to spend all of them in this fucking house. Sure it’s big, but not big enough to put a sufficient distance between him and the man who he’s seriously debating on ‘accidentally’ freezing out. 

“Have you been taking your potions?” 

Not the question he’s expecting, but Draco nods regardless.

“You’re not going to like this, but you may want to ease off of them. A potential side effect of Calming Draughts is loss of emotions, don’t give me that look, it’ll be better for you in the long run. As much as the headmaster would disagree, I prefer my students to have their brains fully functioning.”

“Really? I thought you’d prefer if Longbottom stopped all together.”

Snape huffs, his version of a snort, “One must  _ have  _ a brain for it to function.”

They’ve reached the edge of the ground, so they circle back and turn to lighter subjects, like the World Cup coming up that Draco is almost excited about. Snape doesn’t care about sports, he never has really, but he manages to look somewhat interested before the two reach the front doors and he all but flees from the conversation, claiming bullshit about needing to get his classroom ready.

Which leaves Draco once again questioning whether he  _ should  _ let his wand slip and cast freezing charms in the room his father resides in. Now would be a perfect time, Narcissa is away for ‘business’ that Draco is quickly learning to take as ‘recruiting’, the doctor won’t visit for another week, and he can always swear the house elves to secrecy. They would probably applaud him, if they didn’t get blamed for it.

Speaking of house elves, there’s a rather loud commotion coming from the right stairway.

“Sir! Master! Mistress Narcissa says-”

Someone shushes them, Draco rolls his eyes. He walks a few feet until he can lean against the left banister and glare at the figure coming down marble steps.

“You’re supposed to be in bed.”

Lucius looks like a ghost slapped him on the ass, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He has to use the cane to walk, even though it used to just be a beating stick. Draco revels in the misery of his father until the man starts walking to him and then Draco’s wand is pointing at his throat. 

“I only wanted to walk in the gardens,” the bastard says in a sickeningly horse voice.

“You can walk in the gardens when mother is home to watch you.”

He expects a fight, at least minor arguing before he has to impero the man, but his father sighs and says. “You have every right not to trust me, and I am so very sorry that I allowed the curse to use me to hurt you. I cannot take back what I’ve done to you, but know that I will live every day for the rest of my life in regret because of it.”

“Good.” Draco replies with no emotion, “But that isn’t enough for me. Sorry means nothing, not after what you’ve done. Malfoys are stronger than some curse, and I’m learning that you are a pathetic wizard who would allow a curse to harm his family. You do not deserve our name, and after what you’ve done, you do not, and will not get my forgiveness.”

Lucius opens his mouth, but Draco doesn’t want to hear it. Seeing the pain in his father’s eyes doesn’t even make him angry at this point, it makes him tired and sad.

“Get back to your room before I hex you. This is the last warning you’ll get from me.” He nods to the house elves, who grab his father by the hand and pull him back up the stairs. 

Draco turns and strides up to his room in the West Wing, locks the door, and takes out his ebony knife. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Are you sure this is a good idea”

“Shush up, love, you worry too much.”

In all reality, Remus has every reason to be worried as hell. After all, the house’s inhabitants may have died, but there was no guarantee that it was empty. The Black ancestral home was a steal when his parents died, it was all over the news, auctions, talks of taking it off the market. But Regulus had stepped in and called it all off, declaring that only a Black would get the house to bend to them, and since the Black line had nearly faded away, it was up to him to marry and carry it on. Granted, that was before Regulus died, and he’d been dead since ‘79. Sirius will never admit what that did to him. What it was like to fight against your baby brother who you taught bad words to. How it felt to find out that kid you once had prank wars with was dead. 

Sirius shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. The beaches in Newquay had been fun, sure, but he needed to be closer to Harry in case something went wrong- and when didn’t something go wrong? Remus had agreed and offered up a few places, but once Sirius mentioned coming back he already had a place in mind. A place only the Blacks knew existed, a place that had wards stronger than the Ministry of Magic buildings, a place that he knew every nook and cranny of. And so, here they were, a traitor and a werewolf, sneaking into the home he was kicked out of ages ago, praying to Godric Gryffindor that it fucking let him in.

He shouldn’t be surprised when the front door creaks open, the house let him see it, and a house couldn’t hold grudges for the person that once yelled at a house elf for being afraid to clean it. They sneak into the foyer as Sirius gently closes the door.

“Well, I guess that’s that-”

_ “FILTHY BLOOD TRAITORS!”  _

Sirius jumps a good ten feet in the air, Remus nearly knocks a vase on the floor but manages to catch it at the last second while his lover scrambles to figure out where the hell his mother’s voice is coming from. Walburga Black has been dead for over a decade now, there’s no way in hell she survived except in-

“Oh will you shut up!” A new voice calls, highly irritated and quickly approaching them. Sirius grabs Remus by his robes and pulls him to the door. They grab their wands right as black hair comes into view and then Sirius’s breath catches.

Narcissa. In the flesh. 

She doesn’t notice them, too busy pointing her wand at a painting- Merlin, why didn’t he check the painting?- and throwing hexes at it while it screams at her. She looks so...grown. The last time Sirius saw her she was in the hallways of Hogwarts, standing by Lucius’s side and rolling her eyes at Bellatrix. But now….now she wears a forest green blouse tucked into high waisted slacks. Now her hair is up in a bun instead of falling over her shoulders like some sort of veil to keep her thoughts hidden from the world. Instead of hiding behind her husband she looks like a grown woman gathering intel. It hits him all over again how they’re not children anymore, and this Narcissa may not be as kind as she had been during the war. 

Her wand finally lowers with a huff and a familiar roll of her eyes, and then she’s turning and freezing to the spot.

No one moves, the wand that she had been lowering stays halfway in the air. Remus has his out and unsurprisingly pointed at her but Sirius….

He lets out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

“Sissy….”

Her wand falls to the floor, hands moving to cover her mouth. “Sirius? You-” She draws in a shuttering gasp, “I thought-You’re supposed to be on the run! What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Well, I figured they would’ve already checked it, and it’s not like just anyone can get past the wards, so ya know it’s safe and, well, um,” He scratches his head, “How are you?”

Narcissa stares at him with wide eyes for a second before she’s laughing. Bending at the waist and almost to the point of snorting, and then she moves forward, completely disregarding her wand and hugging him so hard he nearly suffocates. 

“You bloody idiot. Merlin, I thought you had gone mad, but you’ve been insane since birth, haven’t you? They put you away without a trial, I was so mad! But Lucius, the asshole, wouldn’t listen to me! Even after the war, when we thought you had been on his side, he said you deserved it. And when you escaped, I didn’t know what to think. I was so scared you were going to hurt Draco in revenge, but Severus told me that you saved him from a werewolf and I…..” His arms wrap around her waist, “I’ve missed you so much.”

Sirius chuckles into her hair, “So, you won’t turn me in, then?”

“Merlin, no.”

“Even when I tell you that the werewolf I saved Draco from is standing right next to us?”

Narcissa pulls away from him so fast he wonders if he accidentally burned her. She’s across the hall, wand in her hand and pointing at Remus before he can blink and Remus, the idiot, just stands there.

“In my defense, I did tell them all to run and no one listened to me.”

“Well, we were kinda in the middle of questioning Peter, fucking rat. Listen, Sissy, put your wand down, Remus is harmless, the next full moon is three weeks away and we clearly have a  _ lot  _ to talk about.”

Narcissa looks between them, wand wavering slightly. And then she puts it in her pants pocket and sighs. “I’ll have Kreacher make some tea, you remember where the drawing room is?”

“Naturally.”

She sends a glare to Remus, “One toe out of line and your life is mine.”

Remus nods, her threat almost nothing compared to the thousands of letters he’s been receiving since someone let his condition slip to the  _ Daily Prophet,  _ and yes, Sirius does have a few guesses as to which asshole it was. 

Kreacher surprisingly doesn’t say anything to him, even though he’s fully expecting at least a curse or two from the elf. Instead the elf sulks in the corners, moving around under Narcissa’s watchful gaze. He almost thinks the elf isn’t angry anymore until he serves the two men cold tea, Sirius’s bitter and Remus’s sweet. A switch of cups and a warming spell later and the three are sat across each other in ugly uncomfortable chairs that were once his mother’s favorites. 

“Alright,” She begins, and by Godric’s name he’s forgotten how scary his little cousin can be, “You have your tea, I haven’t cursed you yet, so please, if you could…”

Oh, fuck, where does he begin? In his cell? The night all those years ago? Remus lays a hand on his thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze, and Narcissa is right there, watching their every movement but he doesn’t care. He takes the warm hand in his own, taking a long sip of tea that’s actually pretty fucking good and then meeting her eyes.

“Let me start by telling you the story of the cursed night that started this mess in the first place.”

He doesn’t plan on leaving out any details, but fuck he doesn’t mean to tell her everything. Like, the parts of the story he left out when he told Draco so the kid wouldn’t be scarred for life. Parts like him and Remus having the best sex  _ ever  _ and him deciding that Narcissa was right in her letter, and how he did want at least his brother to know about his happiness, because shit the night he had his stuff removed the kid had cried himself sick worrying about his older brother living off the streets. How at first his mother hadn’t recognized him, too gone to her sickness or madness or both, but Regulus did. All of the words his brother screamed at him stinging worse than his mother cluing in the second he got called a ‘traitor to the few people that loved him’. 

Sirius didn’t mean to tell her about leaving the house crying and needing to see his friends before going back to Remus because he’d been going to James for shit like this for so long it was a habit. He doesn’t mean to tell her about how he screamed and cried and saw Harry sitting there, not crying, just staring into nothing until he saw black bushy hair and started sobbing. How he picked up the boy and held him as he cried, and fuck did he cry. He emptied himself of every emotion and then it hit him. The only person who could’ve done it, the one person who was cowardly to betray their friends, and then he had put the sleeping baby down and sent a Patronus to Dumbledore before tearing after the man who once cleared their wounds after Quidditch games. 

Narcissa shakes her head when he gets to the part of Peter slinking into the sewers like the rat he is. “You don’t have to talk about Azkaban….I don’t think any of us can handle it…”

Sure enough, he’s squeezing Remus’s hand so hard it’s turning red in his hand, but Remus is squeezing back just as hard. Narcissa is on the verge of tears, so he skips over the worst parts, fast forwarding to the newspaper, the escape, knowing how close the children were to the enemy. Sneaking into the castle, and when that’s when Remus finally interrupts.

“I still want Dumbledore’s head for pulling that shit. I mean really, he knows how protective Harry is of his friends, and I don’t know what the hell the four of them were doing outside past curfew, but  _ fuck  _ he’s gotta get better about the security up there.”

“Four? Severus told me there were only three of them…”

Remus gives her a curious look, “There were four, how else would I have access to-”

Sirius slaps a hand over his mouth, but it’s too late. He can see Narcissa piecing the puzzle together. 

“Listen to me, and listen very carefully. Severus told me about that night when I drilled him about the claw marks on Draco’s back. He told me the three Gryffindors were poking around where they shouldn’t have been, that when he got to the base of the Whomping Willow, the two of you, Potter, Granger, and Weasley were there with Pettigrew in the middle. He told me Draco followed him down, and when he was taking the students back up a werewolf appeared and clawed my son’s back. If that is not the truth, what is? What happened that night?”

Sirius feels the pull and curses her, locking eyes with Remus before nodding.

He chooses his next words carefully, trying to keep the promise he made to Draco. Though, if he did say something it was the kid’s own fault for not forcing him to swear it.

“That night, the truth is that Peter was trying to escape. Ronald Weasley chased after him, and his friends followed. I tried to grab just Peter, but the boy wouldn’t let go so I dragged him down, the friends once again followed. In the shack, one of them exposed Peter for who he is and Snape came in. All three of our stories were told, and then Harry almost killed the slimy git on the spot, but was talked into letting the Dementors have him….then Remus began to change. He tried to talk all of us out of the room, but we didn’t make it time….”

“What does this have to do with my son?”

An easily avoidable question, Remus takes it in stride. “Well, he got attacked by a werewolf, did he not-”

“Was my son in the room?”

Oh fuck, here they go…. Sirius takes another sip of tea. “Which room?”

“The room where it happened.”

“Why, that could be any room, really. Was he in his common room? Yes, at some point I’m sure he was.”

“Sirius!” Narcissa snarls, pretty face contorting into something much more dangerous, “Who was the fourth person with Potter and his friends?”

“It was another friend of Harry’s.”

“And what is the name of Potter’s friend who was in the shack with you, Lupin, Severus, Pettigrew, Granger and the Weasley? There’s no one else you can say,  _ who was it?!” _

Sirius sighs, but Remus answers for him so at least he won’t be the one to betray Draco’s trust. 

“Who do you think it was? I attacked someone that night, Narcissa. I attacked them in the shack right after Peter’s fate was decided. You know who was with us, who was with Harry.”

Narcissa goes to pick up her tea, only to set it back down with shaky hands. She stands up to pace and for a long second no one says anything.

“How long?” Narcissa finally whispers.

“What?”

“How long has he been working with Potter?”

“I’m not sure….” Sirius replies, thanking everything that Draco never gave him a specific date. 

“How did he know to trust you? Draco rarely trusts people.”

“He had proof, I mean Pettigrew was standing there on the floor, plus he had already assumed.”

Narcissa doesn’t stop moving, constantly going back and forward. She stops in front of Remus, “And you? How did he know to trust you?”

Remus looks to him, Sirius nods. 

“I had been giving him lessons on how to fight Dementors, I know you may not believe me but-”

“The Dementor room in the dungeons…” Narcissa looks once again like she’s going to cry, “I saw, I figured it out, what Lucius had been doing to him...did you know?”

Remus shakes his head, “I didn’t know. I was just told to instruct him, and he’d always been such a good kid that I didn’t think something like that was going on until Sirius told me.”

“And how did  _ you  _ know?”

Sirius stands up, leaning forward to capture her in a hug again, “It doesn’t matter how I know. What matters is that it should have never happened in the first place…..tell me you killed the bastard when you found out.”

Narcissa laughs a little wetly against his chest, “It’s more complicated than that….Merlin everything is so much more complicated...I thought it was bad when we were kids.”

That gets the men chuckling with her, “I never thought I’d be wishing for the old days.”

“Fuck, the old days seem heavenly compared to this shit.”

Narcissa snorts at Remus’s words, pulling back and grasping Sirius’s hands, looking at both of them. 

“It’s worse, isn’t it? They’re so young…..that Harry Potter….he was just a  _ baby.  _ A fucking  _ child  _ and that monster….they’re children. They shouldn’t be fighting the wars of our parents.  _ We  _ shouldn’t be fighting the war of our parents.”

Sirius lightly squeezes her hands, “I’ll drink to that. I’d give anything to bundle them up, both of them, Harry  _ and  _ Draco and save them from this bloody mess.”

“You’d help save my son?”

Remus stands with them, putting a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “With all due respect, Narcissa, I’ve met your son. I spent a year teaching him, countless hours coaching him, even had a few lunches with him. Draco is an amazing young man. He means something to so many people, and we may not know him like you do. But to me he is a cherished student, Sirius had to hold me back from killing your husband when he told me what was going on, and I had to hold Sirius back from kidnapping him so he could have a happy summer. That boy means the world to us, and if we could save him, and Harry, Hermione, Ron, the twins, Blaise, Pansy, any and every child that goes to Hogwarts we would.”

A single tear slides down her cheek as she reaches out for his freehand. The three of them stand still, all joined by those tiny, pale, shaking hands. And then she smiles, hopeful and scared but looking every bit like the girl he remembered sneaking into his room and calling Voldemort a ‘pigheaded coward’. 

“Will you help me, then?”

“Help you?”

Narcissa nods, “I have a plan. The Dark Lord is alive, and I have no clue how powerful he is, but I do know he’s getting stronger- Lucius, he...it’s a long story, but I’m trying to contact as many people as I can to question their loyalties. I want to gather an army, just encase.”

Sirius’s eyes widen, he can’t think to say anything but the letter he'd gotten from Harry a day ago, the one where he talked about his scar hurting.... “What?”

He’s met with determined eyes and an unbreakable desire, “I don’t know about you, but I have no intent of letting children fight in the war we should’ve finished a long time ago.”

Remus whistles, sliding his hand down Sirius’s back until it’s tightly around his waist. 

“Hell yeah we’re in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so excited to write the Black kids feat wolfstar fluff and harry being an idiot next chapter


	5. Burrow Buddies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We have no one to tell-”
> 
> “-except each other, of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did someone say two chapters in the same night? I wrote this once in about an hour so if it's shitty i'm so sorry but i'm gonna write the next one when i wake up so uhhhhh see you then? goodnight!

Meanwhile, across the country, Harry is laughing his ass off. 

“Ma! We weren’t trying to hurt the muggle because he’s a muggle,” Fred pleads

George nods beside his twin, “We were just dropping candy for a bullying git!”

Molly Wealsey starts to get a little too red in the face for comfort, even Mr. Wealsey takes a step back. 

“You-You’re _inventions!_ I’ve already banned them from my house! And you go behind my back and harm a _muggle!_ Have you any idea what type of trouble this could get the two of you into?! You’re going to end up without work- or worse! _In Azkaban!_ Is that where you want to be?!”

Harry swallows as his friends shake their heads, and he can see Ron begging with his eyes to leave the room with him and the girls, but Harry steps up, between the twins and their mother.

“Mrs. Weasley?” He begins in a small voice, “This is just as much my fault as it is theirs. They weren’t trying to be mean, I just told them a few things that Dudley and his parents have done to me and, well, you know Gryffindors….they don’t take well to their friends being bullied.”

She melts a little bit, the red leaving her face just enough to be a faint blush, “Harry, dear. I’m sure you didn’t force their hands. What could a couple of harmless muggles do to you?”

Before he can reply and assure her that it’s nothing too serious, his friends are speaking.

“Well, for starters they had him locked in a cupboard they called a room for most of his life” Fred began.

“Then there’s the fact that his cousin used him as a punching bag,” George continues.

Ron goes next, “He had to write to us for food at the beginning of the summer.”

“Not that starving him is a new thing, have you seen how thin he is at the beginning of each year?” Hermione asks.

“They told him his parents died in a car crash,” Ginny follows up.

“We’ve seen him with bruises-”

“I bet he has some hidden under that sweater-”

“They refuse to replace his glasses-”

“One time they made him dethorn roses without gloves-”

“The one we gave the candy to tried to push him down the stairs-”

“Okay! Okay!” Harry shouts, red in the face and wondering when they _hell_ they learned about all that, “No need to tell her everything, the point is that they’re not good people- Mrs. Weasley?!”

To both his shock and horror, Mrs. Wealsey is looking at him with her hand over his mouth, tears streaming down her cheeks. She gathers Harry into her arms, nearly crushing him, all the while her children are giggling. He feels her look over his head at the twins.

“You’re sure the candy worked?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good. Make more of them, we’ll send a Christmas basket.”

Harry laughs then, along with the rest of them. They all help get ready for dinner as they can’t really fit thirteen people at that small table inside. But outside there are two more redheads he hasn’t met yet, though he knows who they are thanks to Ron’s whispering.

“The one with the long hair? That’s Bill. The other one is Charlie, go make friends I’ve gotta go grab spoons.”

And with that Ron thrusts him towards the two men, running back into the house where his mother is screaming his name.

The small one, he looks a little like Percy if Harry’s being honest, is laughing with his brother, hair a little longer than Fred’s, he must be Charlie. Bill, the tall one, nearly stops Harry in his tracks. Being tall is just the tip of the iceberg, his hair is back in a long ponytail- fuck who knew red hair could look _attractive?-_ he has a tattoo peeking out of his rolled up sleeves, not to mention the fucking earring?! They both turn towards him with big smiles, “Oi! You must be Harry, it’s great to meet you!”

Fuck, he’s in so much trouble. 

Dinner passes quicker than he’d like it to, between listening in on different conversations and getting absolutely thrilled to talk about Quidditch. 

A few hours later, after forcing himself to stop acting like a fucking girl around Bill because he is a _grown man_ and also _Ron’s fucking brother,_ he finds himself sitting on his and Ron’s bed, sharing sweets with the twins and Hermione while Ginny showers.

“So,” Ron asks, popping a licorice in his mouth, “Have you heard from Sirius yet?”

“Ron!” Hermione whispers, “Not in front of-”

“The twins?” George asks.

“What can’t you talk about in front of us?”

“We have no one to tell-”

“-except each other, of course.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but they’re not done yet.

“If it’s about the Malfoy thing-”

“-we already know.”

“Really, you all have been way too nice to him-”

“-plus we totally saw him and Harry on the map last year.”

Ron, Hermione, and Harry all gape at them, but it’s Hermione who asks, “You _know?!_ And you’re…. _okay with it?!”_

The twins shrug, “Sure we’re okay with it, if you’re friends he can’t be _as_ mean to you.”

“Plus, that means there might be hope for the Slytherins after all.”

No one knows what to say to that until Ginny walks in, still drying her hair. “What happened? Did Harry confess his love for Malfoy or did Ron and Hermione just announce their relationship while I was out of the room?”

_“What?!”_

“Herm and I are _not-”_

“There is _nothing_ between us-”

“ _Me and Draco?!”_

Ginny grins with the evil twins beside her, “So it’s _Draco,_ is it?”

Harry screams. Ron’s face matches his hair but it’s nothing compared to Hermione’s. The three of them glare at the others, but the three redheads are too busy laughing so hard they almost puke.

“Anyways,” Fred continues, drying his eyes.

“What can’t the twins know?”

“The twins can’t know something?” Ginny asks.

“They already know about Draco and the gang, we might as well tell them,” Ron suggests.

“The gang?” George asks.

“Great, Ron, now they’ know about everyone. Remember when Draco specifically asked us to keep it a _secret?!”_

“They’re my family! Family doesn’t keep things from family!”

“You lie to your mom all the time!”

“That’s….different.”

Fred pops a chocolate in his mouth, “Look, it’s their first lover’s spat.”

“Shut _up Fred!”_

“I’m George!”

“No you’re not!”

“And anyways, them knowing about the Slytherins is completely different from them knowing about _this!”_

“And what is ‘this’ exactly?” Ginny asks.

Ron opens his mouth but Hermione cuts him off and Harry’s really had enough of it all so he rolls his eyes and steps between his two best friends.

“My godfather is Sirius Black, don’t worry, he’s actually a good guy, and yes, there are three Slytherins that we’re friends with. It’s Draco, Blaise, and Pansy and if you tell anyone, I do mean anyone, I will never save you from your mother again.”

It’s the worst threat he can think of and from the looks on their faces, it works. Before they can ask questions he turns to Ginny, “How did _you_ know?”

She shrugs, “Anyone with eyes can see that, plus Luna and I are friends, that girl notices everything. Like _everything,_ it’s kinda scary.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Look, it’s a long story, all of it.”

“Well, we’re already jumped up on candy,” Fred grins.

“I can’t think of a better way to pass the time, can you Fred?”

“No I can’t, George, what about you Gin?”

“Nope, look, I’m already in my comfy pants.”

Ron groans, “Merlin, you three are a nightmare together.”

“Nothing like ‘Mione and Pans together, though.”

Ron nods in agreement, Hermione actually looks complimented, and then Harry takes a seat and starts explaining, like all of it, third year laid out in plain sight for everyone involved. And no, he does not describe Draco in the way he wants to. No need to egg Ginny on, but fuck, now that he’s thinking about it Draco….

So, he’s a bit strange, and is definitely worse off than Harry in the parent department, but he’s also kind and unbelievably funny. Smart, like at least as smart as Hermione and athletic as hell...not to mention the weird feeling he has when he tells them about Draco leaning on Blaise’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. He can’t put words to it but it definitely didn’t feel _good,_ and when he saw him hurt….Harry shakes his head, telling them about the letters between him and Sirius this past summer and how the man has become a weirdly important part of his life and then Hermione makes a sound and waves her wand, a few letter of her own appearing in her hand.

“That reminds me! Pans and I have been keeping up a correspondence this summer, I think you might want to read them, oh don’t pass them around, just read them out loud Harry.”

Harry rolls his eyes but accepts the letters, in order by date of course, and begins to read.

_Dearest,_

He raises an eyebrow at her, a habit he probably got from Draco if he’s honest. She flushes.

“What? We couldn’t write our names, could we?”

Ginny snickers across the room, Harry looks back at the paper.

_Dearest,_

_Bear and I had tea with our Dragon’s mother, and our own, today, it went as horribly as you can imagine. She put Veritaserum in our teas, we were forced to out him about something, but rather than his dealings with our pottery friend-_

“Really? Blaise gets to be Bear and Draco gets to be Dragon but _I_ have to make plates?!”

The Weasleys all laugh, Hermione rolls her eyes, “Just _read!”_

_-Bear told them about the abuse._

“Oh shit,” Ron whispers.

_It was horrible. And if you thought it couldn’t get worse, Father Dragon came walking in, so of course Mother Dragon figured it all out. We were sent home without further explanation, but by Merlin am I worried about him._

_Bear hasn’t written to me yet, and we’ve yet to hear from Dragon himself, and that can’t be a good thing, during the summers he writes twice a day...I’m scared, Dearest. I don’t know what’s happening to my friends, but my father hasn’t stopped asking me questions. Mother tries to deflect him, she knows it’s best not to incur the Dragon’s wrath, but I fear more for him than I do myself._

_I’ll write as soon as I can,_

_P._

Ginny covers her mouth, “I know now is an awful time to laugh, but I really need to know if you addressed her Pretty.”

Hermione blushes, Ron glares. “It is none of your business, but for your information I did.”

Harry ignores their laughter and Ron’s annoyance in favor of starting the next letter.

_Dearest,_

_We’ve been reunited with Dragon at his beach house, it’s beautiful here, on an island we can come and go as we please. He isn’t well...when we arrived he was sitting and staring at the ocean. I don’t think he knew who we were at first, the elves said he hadn’t moved since he got there, but Lu was watching over him, keeping him warm when blankets weren’t enough. Bear forced him to bathe, stood in the bathroom with him the whole time, and then we both forced him to eat. Got his lemon tarts as bribery in case the letter from his mother wasn’t enough. After, we three, and the cat, of course, piled into bed and cuddled until he was asleep._

_Bear and I agree that it’s too much for him, and we have no idea how to help so I must ask you, though I doubt Dragon would mind at this point, I have to beg you not to tell anyone we don’t trust. You see, there is something very wrong with his father. His mind isn’t right, configured with some sort of mind curse. Would you mind looking into for me? Anything that replaces memories and gives someone control over the victim. I’m hoping he’ll be better in a few days, him and Bear and cuddled up next to me, the first time I’ve seen Dragon look blissed out in so long. Hopefully we’ll be enough for now._

_Write soon,_

_P._

Harry does not, he absolutely does not fume at the idea of Blaise and Draco cuddling in bed with LuLu by their side. 

“Seems like you might have competition, Harry.” Fred jokes.

“The cat likes me better!”

“So you’re jealous?”

“I am _not!”_

At least now he has a name for the emotion. He picks up the last letter.

_Dearest,_

_So much has happened, you must fill in the boys so we don’t spend the whole train ride on our discoveries._

_For starters, you were right about the Total Control curse-_

“What’s the Total Control curse?” He pauses to ask.

Hermione looks like she could strangle him, “It’s a curse that gives the caster total control over a person’s mind, simultaneously filling their minds with memories while the victim is forced to do their bidding. They don’t know anything that’s happening until after they’ve already committed the crime.”

Fred and George lock eyes, “Oh.”

“This suddenly isn’t funny anymore.”

Harry glares at Ginny, “No shit.”

_Although I am glad to give good news, this is still awful. All this means is that Father Dragon's torture had more than one meaning._

“Lucius was torturing him?!” George asks.

“Yes, didn’t you listen? Keep reading, Harry.”

_Dragon is still sad, even his mother has caught onto that. But, more importantly, she’s on our side. Before we left, she sat us down and gave us a speech, she told us to distance ourselves from people who support….darker hobbies. I can’t tell you much, but I can quote her._

_I believe the words were that she would not ‘allow’ her children ‘to be dragged into’ the mess her parents made. A small comfort to the shit Dragon will have to go through these next three weeks. I’m worried still, but now I know his mother’s true intentions. He’ll be safe, even when she leaves for her ‘work’ Father Dragon is too weak to do much. She’s helping others get into lighter ambitions, if you catch my meaning. I suspect he’ll be telling her the full truth soon. In the meantime, I hope you’ll continue to write to me, in these trying time I am-_

“Okay! I’m gonna stop reading there!” Harry squeaks.

Hermione lurches to grab the papers from him before one of the twins can.

“Wait! What does it say?!”

“Nothing!”

“Then you would’ve read it!”

“She’s just happy to have someone there for her!” Hermione tries, face redder than Mrs. Weasley’s was when she was yelling at the twins.

“Bullshit!” Ginny calls, and she’d be right.

The paper definitely did not suggest that ‘friends’ were anywhere in their future, but who was he to tell them? Instead he slams his hand on his thighs to get their attention.

“Everyone shush! I have a few questions!”

“Oh, what is there to question?! I thought it was all fairly obvious? Lucius has been under mind control his whole time, yes he’s been abusing Draco you can put your hand down Gin, but she won’t go into details so I’m unsure of how badly he’s been affected. The _important_ part is that Draco is safe and that Mrs. Malfoy is on our side. She’s recruiting people to fight with us if it comes to it so we, you know, children, won’t have to do all the heavy lifting. It means someone who’s been exposed to everything awful the world has can still be good, which is something we need.”

“You got all that from those letters?”

“All that I got was that you and Pansy are definitely gay for each other.”

“We are not!” Hermione moans, “We’re just friends!”

“Yeah, and Harry totally wasn’t jealous of Blaise for cuddling with Draco.”

“I wasn’t!”

“You so were!” 

“Don’t we have something more important to talk about?!” Ron whines and because he probably won’t get a better segway, Harry snatches this one.

“My scar! Let’s talk about my scar!”

“Your scar?”

“Yes, it’s been hurting.”

“Scars can’t hurt! You’re just hiding from your feelings!”

“Will you shut up?!”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco has walked in on a lot of strange things, but seeing his mother up at three in the morning, waiting in the kitchens like she knew he’d be down here is fucking up there on the list.

“Um...Good evening, Mum?” He says, pausing with enough room to run and hide, just in case.

“Evening, Draco. Won’t you take a seat? I’ve had Sisily make snacks.”

He nears her area, “Of course, but might I ask what this is about?”

“Not yet, have a snack first?” They look innocent enough, not that he trusts them.

“Did you put Veritaserum in the marshmallows?”

“Don’t be silly,” She says as Draco decides it doesn’t really matter because she made his favorite hot chocolate and it tastes so fucking good. “So you question the marshmallows but not the coco?”

“You put it in the coco, didn’t you?”

“Naturally.”

Curse his sweet tooth. Curse it right into the ground. 

“Now that that’s settled, I have a few questions.”

“I can’t believe you poisoned my coco.” Draco whines.

Narcissa rolls her eyes, “It’s not poisoned, it tastes the same as mine.”

“Did you taste it?”

“Of course not.”

“So it is poisoned.”

If her questions don’t kill him maybe she will. “Stop trying to distract me, you’re in trouble.”

A lie. If he were in trouble they wouldn’t be sitting with here making smores and drinking hot coco, he would’ve been accosted the second she got home.

“Ask away, mother.” He says right as LuLu hops onto the counter so she can try and steal a cracker.

“I already know most of it,” She says as she takes a bite of her smore, “I just need your confirmation.”

Draco swats LuLu away from the marshmallows, putting her in his lap so she’s safer. “Okay?”

“I’ve already silenced this room, so feel free to speak freely, and if you don’t believe me, let me tell you what I know.” 

The way she calmly continues making her smores is starting to scare him, but LuLu is eyeing a cup of milk on the table so he guesses it can’t be that bad.

“See, I went to the Black ancestral home today, and while I was there I ran into an old friend of mine, two really. It seems they’re a pair, you remember my cousin Sirius Black and his boyfriend Remus Lupin, right?”

Draco’s stomach drops. LuLu is a filthy traitor. An absolute menace. A little white-

“Well. I had them explain, using my new favorite method of acquiring the truth, it works wonders, I suggest you try it. Oh, stop giving me that look we both know you do what has to be done. Anyways, I had them explain the truth behind last year, _all_ of the truth, and I found out some pretty interesting things…...so tell me...how long have you been working with Harry Potter?”

He’s going to die. Narcissa is going to kill him. Draco would stake his bet on the chocolate being poisoned if she wasn’t eating it too. But something isn’t right here...why is she so calm? She doesn’t _look_ like she wants to hurt him…

“What do you mean?”

“I know you and Potter are friends, and that you worked together to free Sirius last year. I’m not angry, Draco, but I will be if you don’t tell me the truth.”

“And how do I know you won’t hurt him? I know you’re on our side but-”

 _“Our_ side? Whose side are you on?”

Draco refuses to look at her, “I’m on the side of what I think is right.”

“And that side is?”

“The side that wants Riddle dead and the rest of the world freed. He’s a disgrace to high society, dangerous and driven mad with ambition. Not to mention that his tastes in literally everything are awful, he looks like he’s trying to copy off Severus but making everything look like a bad gothic story.”

Narcissa chuckles, “I think I once called that thing a ‘pig headed wannabe’ when I was younger.”

“Really?”

She nods, taking his hands in her and forcing their eyes to meet. “Darling you know I’m on your side, that I want to protect all the children from our parent’s mistakes, and if you are working, or even friends with Harry Potter I need to know so I can keep _you_ safe. I need to know all of it, Draco. No more lies, no more secrets. If this is going to work, we both need to be completely honest with each other. I need to know who you trust, where your alliance is. Please.”

It’s the ‘please’ that breaks him. His mother doesn’t beg, he hasn’t heard her say please except to her elders, and yet here she is…

Draco takes a deep breath, hands petting LuLu just to stay calm. And then he tells her everything. 


	6. Quidditch Changes Things, Karen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t listen to him. He’s right of course, but he’s being a brat because I didn’t let him bring LuLu.”
> 
> “No, I’m being a brat because you poisoned my hot chocolate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did someone say fluffy wolfstar feat. everyone's favorite malfoys among school crushes and a real life change of heart (kinda)?

It’s noon the next day when Sirius realizes he has to drag himself out of bed.

In his humble, totally unbiased opinion, leaving the bed when someone else was inside it should be illegal. Leaving the bed when _Remus_ is still sleeping is unheard of, but he’s hungry and really has to pee so sacrifices have to be made. 

Narcissa, after looking through files for ages, had left at midnight, giving the men time to thoroughly clean one bedroom and fall into freshly made sheets. They’d have to put in a lot of work to make this place feel like a home, but it’s starting to look a little better. Krecher already has coffee waiting for him by the mantle, so he figures maybe hope isn’t lost. Finding a way to renovate a home when you’re a wanted criminal sounds like the type of challenge he’s been missing, plus it would make for a fun story when he _finally_ got Dumbledore to cave and let Harry live with them. 

Another challenge, but that one seems a little more impossible than finding a new sofa for the drawing room. Krecher flashes in, leaving a plate of his once favorites out and before he can think he’s blurting out ‘thank you’ and getting a kind smile he hadn’t known the elf to possess. As much as it bugs him, he forgets about it the second Remus walks in. 

Hair still messed up from sleep, shirtless and in pants a little on the big side, yawning and making Sirius’s heart double in size.

“Morning, gorgeous.”

He gets a half committal noise back as Remus makes his way to brush back curly black hair and plant a kiss on his forehead. 

“Woke up ‘n you were gone.”

“Just hungry is all, Krecher made coffee.”

As if on cue, Krecher appears in the room, holding out a cup for Remus who’s mouth falls open.

“Why?” He asks, staring at the cup like it’s full of illicit drugs.

The elf bows, “Master Regulus loved his brother, and I be loving Master Regulus. Master Sirius and Mistress Narcissa were the only ones to show kindness to him, he talked about you lots before he died. I be honoring my Master’s memory is all, sir.”

Well, Sirius never thought he’d be reduced to tears by a house elf, but he managed to survive not only a war but Azkaban too, so anything is possible. 

After his hideous meltdown, he refuses to admit that he had hugged Krecher and cried like a baby, they start on the kitchen. The three of them work quietly at first, the only noise pots and pans moving, but then Sirius brings the awful boombox he’d gotten when he moved into his own place and before he knows it he and Remus are dancing around the kitchen to some muggle named Elton John, and then Krecher changes the tune after they accidentally break one plate. 

Not that it ends well for the elf because by then they’re almost done, and it’s nearly five. Hazy sunlight fills the room and they’re covered in dust, but the song is slow. Sirius isn’t really sure how they end up there, it could be Remus swatting him with a towel, or when Sirius ‘accidentally’ splashed him with water, or maybe when he tried to run from the man’s payback and somehow ended up in his arms. It doesn’t matter much, because before they know it they’re dancing. 

He can see the sunset streaming in from the windows, and Remus looks stunning in the golden glow. Everything is suddenly perfect. Talking quietly through kisses, swaying to the beat neither of them know. Half of him expects Lily to walk in and demand to know what’s taking so long, only to squeal. He can see James rushing in and then laughing, pulling her in for a dance so the four of them can sway together like they did at the school balls. They’d switch partners like they always did and dinner would end up a little burned but no one ever minded. Peter would join them later, fussing about how long it took to get here, or how Lily should be more careful not to hurt the baby in her stomach. 

Their dance gets sad from there because it’s just a memory. Lily and James were gone, Peter a traitor. Remus and Sirius, they’re all that’s left. So he commits it to memory, the two of them dancing alone in the kitchen, and when he presses his forehead into Remus’s shoulder he can almost hear his dead friends teasing. They don’t even notice their guests until he hears a throat clear and nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Merlin, Sissy! You have _got_ to stop doing that! You’re gonna give us a heart attack!” 

“I’ve been calling your name for three minutes.”

Remus flushes, keeping his arm wrapped around Sirius and reminding himself that they are grown adults, not teenagers caught snogging in a broom closet. “Yes, well. We were um, rather busy.”

Narcissa groans and shakes her head, but there’s a faint smile on her lips. Sirius makes to hug her in greeting but then a different voice cuts them off.

“Is it safe yet, mother?”

They both freeze, looking at her with wide eyes but her smile only widens. Not in the threatening way they’re both so used to, just warm and happy. 

“It’s safe.” Is all she says, and then Draco peeks his head in the room, as if making sure no funny business is happening. When he spots them a smile breaks out onto his face.

The young man steps fully into the room, looking his age for once and not like a thirty year old stressed out ministry employee. At first Sirius is sure he’s about to engage into an awkward staring competition, but Draco simply throws himself at them. They catch him in a hug they’re too shocked to fully comprehend.

“Hi Uncle Sirius! Hi Uncle Lupin!”

Remus freezes, looking over to Narcissa who still has that warm smile, only with a blush over her cheeks. Sirius clears his throat, “Hello to you too, _cousin.”_

Draco pulls away and rolls his eyes, “Oh come off it, we both know you’re the brother Mum never had, and I’m almost positive you and Professor Lupin are married, so he’s family too.”

Sirius sputters, he can feel Remus breaking down beside him. Narcissa snorts.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s right of course, but he’s being a brat because I didn’t let him bring LuLu.”

“No, I’m being a brat because you poisoned my hot chocolate.”

“For the last time it was not _poisoned,_ I just needed to make sure you couldn’t lie to me.”

Sirius laughs in spite of himself, “Did she trick you with Veritaserum too?”

Draco whirls to him and nods frantically, “Twice! I’ve fallen for it twice now!”

“It’s your own fault for being too gullible.”

“It was _hot chocolate!_ Putting potions in my hot chocolate is sacrilegious!”

“To what religion?” Sirius asks, completely amused by the whole conversation. 

“The….the...I dunno, I think of one eventually-”

Narcissa chuckles, coming behind the boy to put an arm around his shoulders in a half hug.

“Shall we convene in the drawing room?”

“Probably,” Remus finally speaks up, “But mine and Sirius’s coffee cups might still be in there.”

“Nonsense, Krecher would never leave a mess lying around.” the Blacks say together, much to Draco’s amusement. He turns those grey eyes on Remus after a moment of watching his mother laugh.

“You drink coffee, Professor Lupin?”

“Remus.” 

Sirius stops laughing, eyeing his boyfriend and cousin closely.

“Sir?” Draco asks. Sirius is suddenly struck by how much _better_ he looks. His eyes have life in them, like some hope had returned, and he wasn’t limping or flinching in pain….some time on the Malfoy Island must have done him good. The train of thought screeches to a halt when his lover speaks.

“Well, if you really think of Sirius and I as your family, then you should probably call me Remus. I’m not a teacher anymore, you know.” 

Draco _beams._ The smile so bright Sirius wants nothing more than to protect him and keep him from looking like the sad, helpless boy he had spoken to at the top of the Astronomy tower.

 _“Uncle_ Remus.”

Narcissa rolls her eyes, “Don’t push it.”

The four of them make their way to the drawing room and settle in the ugly chairs Sirius swears he’s going to burn one day.

“So, what brings you back?” Sirius asks, eyeing Draco just to make _sure_ he’s okay. 

The teen shrugs, “Don’t look at me, she’s the one who dragged me here.”

“Oh, so you didn’t want to see us?”

“Now, now, cousin, I didn’t say that.”

Sirius smiles at him, moving his eyes over to a suspiciously quiet Narcissa fiddling with her tea cup.

“Sissy?”

She jumps, looking a little too guilty for any one person, and then sighs. “I have an idea, and none of you are going to like it but it has to be done.”

He gets the feeling that this is going to a common occurrence in his new life. “What is it?”

“Draco, darling.” Narcissa turns to her son, Draco gives her a look so full of suspicion he almost burst into laughter. But then Narcissa continues, “You know the Quidditch World Cup?”

Draco nods, a little eagerly.

“Yes, well, I need you to attend it.”

Sirius has to cover his ears so they’re not damaged by Draco’s victory whoop. “Really?! You got tickets?! Why wouldn’t I like this?!”

“Because I need you to take your father with you.”

Draco’s face falls flat but it’s Sirius who roars, “Excuse me?!”

“His father?!” Remus continues, “You want him to be _alone_ with _Lucius?!”_

“I love you, mother. I really do, but I have to go with my uncles on this one.”

Narcissa huffs, “For the last time they are your _cousins!_ Not your uncles, and hear me out you two, before you jump to any rash decisions. If the Dark Lord- sorry, Draco- if _Riddle_ rises, where do you think he and his Death Eaters will come? Just like last time they’ll want to be at the Manor and I cannot allow that to happen. I’ve already found the protective and repellent wards we can use, but I’ll need a minimum of ten hours to do it by myself, five if I have help from you two. I also can’t do it with Lucius in the house because he’ll know what I’m up to and try to stop me, but if Draco takes him to the World Cup, I can work freely. Plus, you act like I don’t put my son over everything. Do you know how many witnesses are there? How much security? Lucius has seats reserved in the Minister’s box for every home game, they’ll be sitting next to dozens of Aurors on top of security guards and powerful wizards, I assure you I wouldn’t propose this if I hadn’t thought it through. I’ve already had a portkey made, enchanted Draco’s robes for protection, and broached the topic with Lucius.”

Draco stares at her. “So you want me to take Lucius to the game so you can extra ward the house and keep crazy, homicidal maniacs off our doorstep.”

“Yes.”

“I guess I really don’t have much of a choice then, do I?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


At least if the game was awful Harry would be watching it surrounded by beautiful men. 

Because Bill and his weird feelings for Draco aren’t enough, Mr. Wealsey managed to force him to come face to face with one of the hottest Quidditch players he’d ever seen. A Hufflepuff six year Seeker that Harry really never paid attention to when they were off the field but now….when the fuck was he going to stop running into attractive men? Shouldn’t he be finding women attractive?

Before Harry can really ponder over that he’s led into the stadium and his brain stops for a moment. 

Fuck becoming an Arour if he managed to defeat Moldy Old Riddle, he was going to be a professional Quidditch player purely for the fucking stadium. 

It’s _huge!_ Like at least all of London could fit into it, stands completely packed, cheering fans on either side, and he’s following an attractive man to their seats? This _can’t_ be real. Like Cedric was trying to prove to Harry that everything happening around them is a dream, he stops in the middle of the stairway.

“Oh! Stay right there, I’ll be right back.” 

Harry watches him go, and then he sees who he’s going to and nearly trips.

Draco Malfoy greets the boy with a smile and an outstretched hand. He looks bigger, stronger, somehow happier and Harry is smart enough to know it’s because of the man a few isles next to him looking like he’s about to fall over. _Why_ Draco was here with his father is a complete mystery that Harry kinda needs to know the answer to. Especially when said evil father is casually chatting with the Minister of Magic himself. It’s to make sure he’s safe! Not because something about how Draco looks at Cedric rubs him the wrong way.

“Malfoy.” Harry says, realizing far too late that his body is moving without his brain following.

How can his brain follow anything but the soft smile Draco gives him? They don’t shake hands, they can’t be seen together like this in public, but for a moment he sees something soft flash across silver eyes and it warms him to his core. 

“Potter,” Draco tries to sneer back, but it’s practically a relieved sigh. Had he been worrying? “Father got us seats in the Minister’s Box.”

He knows that to Cedric it must sound like Draco’s bragging, but Harry knows it’s code for ‘I’m safe’ so he sends his own code back.

“Happy, are you?”

Draco’s smile is going to be the death of him, “Ecstatic.”

He wants to say more, to argue or start a fight because it’s _Draco_ and he hasn’t seen his friend _all summer_ and his dad was an abusive prick so Harry knows the boy is hurting and wants to say something comforting, but a blonde is turning him around with a squeal before he can. She’s stunning. Tall and thin, yet strong muscles poking out beneath her perfectly pressed outfit. Not a strand of that silver blonde hair is out of place despite the humidity. 

“Draco?” She purrs, much too excited for Harry’s liking, “Est-ce vous?”

He doesn’t follow, but Draco apparently does.

“Fleur!” He throws his arms around her and Harry has to admit she isn’t as pretty as he originally thought she was. “C'est si bon de te voir! Comment vas-tu mon amour?”

Harry doesn’t know shit about other languages, but he does know ‘mon amour’ is French for ‘my love’ thanks to a kick Aunt Petunia got on a few years ago when Uncle Vernon made noises about wanting to go to Paris. He also knows that whatever’s happening here, he doesn’t like it. So when Cedric says ‘bye’ for them both and leads him away he doesn’t complain at all.

That is until he’s dragged into a corridor and rounded on, “Is there something between you and Malfoy?”

Harry blinks. “W-what?! No! Of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Come off it, Harry. You looked over the moon to see him, and you got jealous when that girl showed up? She’s gorgeous, and I get it! I’d be jealous if Krum went anywhere near Cho, but Cho and I also aren’t sworn enemies!”

Harry sputters at him, “Look! There is nothing going on between me and that- that- that scumbag! I was just happy to see his father in pain is all! Now are we going to the gift shop or not?” He pushes past the other boy, not knowing where he’s going so thankfully Cedric does take the lead again and before he knows it he’s looking at tons of wild stuff, Ron and Hermione snickering over miniature flying Firebolts.

He remembers Draco complaining last year when Harry got _his_ Firebolt from Sirius. _“It’s just not fair! How am I supposed to beat you now- you’re already a pretty okay player but now you’re just cheating!”_

Harry grabs one of the miniature brooms and three Omnioculars despite Ron’s protests.

“You won’t be getting anything for Christmas,” he lies as he hands over his money, knowing perfectly well there was no way in hell he’d stick to that. Call him selfish, but the look of joy on his friend’s face when they can actually _see_ the game was worth every cent.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Lucius knows something is wrong even before he’s fully awake.

The game had been spectacular, partly because it was something _normal_ that made him feel less like a monster, but mostly because he’d gotten to see Draco come alive in a way he hadn’t seen since the boy was ten years old and running after fireflies in the gardens. His son had yelled and screamed and cheered when the Irish won, excitedly pointing at Viktor Krum like he hung the moon and stars and Lucius had soaked in every second of it, not bothering to conceal his smile. 

When they returned to their tent Draco had still been basking in the glow of the win and it meant more to him than anything else in the world.

And then the pain started. 

At first it was a light prick on his arm, he’d thought he’d bumped it into something as he fell asleep. But now it was a painful throb that had him scrambling out of bed, knocking several things off his nightstand and waking up Draco in the process of standing.

“Father?” The boy groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

Lucius felt his heart squeeze at the sight, but the pain in his arm was starting to worsen. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Draco opened his mouth to protest but Lucius was already exiting the tent and freezing at the sight before him.

In the sky, you couldn’t miss it even if you were blind, is the same mark that brands his arm for all of eternity. A skull with a snake nearly dancing around it, the Dark Mark, green and very much real.

The flashbacks come next, nailing him to the spot as he thinks of all the other times he’d seen it, of what this _means_ for the innocent boy he’d hurt. What it means for Narcissa…

Draco’s beside him with a gasp before he can react further, hand digging into his arm almost more painful than the pressure already there. 

“We”- his son takes a few steadying breaths- “We need to get out of here. _Now.”_

Lucius nods, already turning towards the tent to get dressed. They didn’t trust him enough to give him his wand back, and he understands why. He didn’t even miss it until this moment because it would be far more useful than Draco, who seems like he’s on the verge of a panic. 

He pauses for a moment as the boy slips on shoes and grabs the wand from his bed, and then shakes the cowardice away.

“Draco.”

The look of astonishment and anger on his son’s face hurts so fucking much.

“Don’t worry, you can do this. We’ll be home before you know it.”

“I’m surprised you’re not begging me to let you join them.”

Lucius grinds his teeth at the insult, deciding to play dumb even though he knows exactly what it means, “Why would I want that?”

And in truth, _why would he?_ He’s had enough of the Death Eaters for a lifetime. No one could be in that group and stay sane. Not with all the torture and killing, the rape and brutality of it all. Not when it meant looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life.

Or betraying the trust of your wife and son.

Lucius shakes his head, leading Draco outside so they can pack up the tent. It’s shrunk and in Draco’s hand when all hell breaks loose.

Screams come from the left and right, he hears shouts, people cursing and then he sees magic flying through the air. People start running from their tents, waking as many people up as they can, warning, casting shields, yelling which way is safe. Lucius looks to Draco, makes sure they have everything, and then he grabs his son’s hand and runs away from the green and red flashes.

“Where are we going?!” Draco screams, casting a protection spell he’s fully aware no fourteen year old should know around them.

“Away from here!” Lucius yells back, “Someplace we can use the portkey!” 

Once again, it would be so much easier if he had his wand so they could Apparate back to the manor, but luck is not on his side and he doubts he’ll have earned that so soon. The two of them are swept up in the crowd, filled to the brim with terror. Some people don’t even bother packing up, he hears parents yelling to ‘leave! We can come back later!” Children are crying, mothers counting to make sure they have everyone. Left and right families are disappearing, him and Draco so close to the safe point he has in mind.

And then Draco stops, pulling Lucius to a stop with him. He follows the boys gaze to a group of redheads, and in the middle of them, Harry fucking Potter.

“Draco!” He yells over the screams, “We’ve got to go! It’s not safe here!”

Draco looks back at him, and the right at Potter, apparently caught in the middle of making a very difficult decision. He can barely hear him over the commotion around them, but by Merlin can he read lips.

“They’ll kill him…”

“They’ll kill _us!”_

Lucius has a sinking feeling in his stomach, like he knows what Draco is going to do before he does it.

Hard grey eyes meet his, his son looks like more of a man than he knows he’ll ever be. “I can’t leave him.” Is all the boy says before tearing his hand out of Lucius’s grasp and running towards the group and he _knows_ the pain is starting to get unbearable but that’s his fucking son and he’s not about to let him _die._ He’s lost enough family, he won’t lose anyone else. So Lucius Malfoy, former Death Eater, the man who hates Muggles and Mudbloods and even the fucking Weasleys goes running after his son, wishing once again for a damned wand so he can be useful to his child that clearly inherited his backbone from his mother.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco doesn’t give a shit if his father follows. Right now only three things matter to him.

There are Death Eaters nearby.

Harry is in the middle of the madness.

If he doesn’t get to Harry the boy could die.

So Draco goes bounding to them, running smack into Hermione who screams, and then hugs the air out of him the second she realizes who it is.

“Draco!”

“Draco?” Voices echo around him, and then two other arms are around him, one he recognizes as Harry’s, so the other one must be Ron. He pulls away from them, making a quick headcount. 

Four Weasleys, Ronald, the girl one, and the twins, plus Hermione, Harry and himself. A total of seven, he can do this.

“We’ve gotta get out of here!” He screams, right before a look of fear comes over his friend’s face and he hears his father yelling his name.

“Draco!”

_Fuck._

He expects a fight, some bullshit about how none of the people in front of him matter, so he rounds and steps in front of them, shoulders squared and jaw set.

“I’m not leaving them!” He shouts.

And to his and everyone else’s surprise Lucius doesn’t even blink. He grabs Draco by the shoulders and shouts, “And I’m not leaving _you!”_

Before he can process what that means, Hermione gasps beside him and he turns in time to see them. Actually fucking _see_ them.

The masked figures that once plagued the hallways of his home, marching in a tight formation, carrying to people, no, _muggles,_ above them. The grounds keeper and his family…. Draco feels the urge to vomit, but then his father curses behind him.

“They’re after Muggles and Muggle Sympathizers, which all of you are. We need to go. _Now!”_

Draco knows it’s stupid, but he has a wand and his father doesn’t, so really, how stupid can it be? He looks around at the scared group of teenagers, and then at Potter who seems to be forming a plan. Draco locks eyes with his father.

“If you betray us, it will cost you your life.”

Lucius nods, “I expect nothing else.”

Draco turns to the group, grabbing whoever’s hand is nearest. “Link hands! We can’t be separated! We’re going to have to run but you _cannot let go!”_

Harry nods beside him and it’s then that Draco realizes who’s hand he’s gripping tightly. It calms him, gives him a clearer mind in this mess. After one final nod between the two of them, Draco turns to his father. 

“Lead the way.”

They run, full out sprint to the forests nearby, and they don’t stop until they’ve passed the veelas and the teenagers they surround. The group passes Mr.Bagman who gives them a bewildered look until Lucius shouts ‘You need to get your ass to the campsite!’

And when Mr. Bagman asks why, ‘Death Eaters’ is a sufficient response.

Picking up the pace once more, Draco almost runs smack into a house elf he knows to be Mr. Crouch’s. He has to stop then, just so he won’t trip and he’d like to tell her to watch where she’s fucking going but Harry cuts him off.

“Winky! What are you doing here?”

The elf, Winky, turns to them with wide eyes, “There be bad wizards about Mr. Potter! Winky is scared! Winky doesn’t like these wizards!” and then, before anyone can do anything, she’s gone.

They keep running until they reach the heart of the forest, and only then does Lucius turn and do a headcount before addressing the Weasley crew.

“Where is your father? I know he’s here, I saw him with the Minister.”

Fred and George say nothing, so Ginny rolls her eyes and steps forward, “He went to help the Ministry.”

“While his _children_ were here?! What if something happened to you?”

Fred scoffs, “Why would you care?”

For a second Draco is a hundred percent sure his father is going to find a way to curse the twin with wandless magic, and then to his surprise Lucius softens. “You’re just children….”

And because it’s not already awkward enough, Harry picks that moment to rip his hand free from Hermione’s, naturally keeping Draco’s hand in his, and starts rummaging through his pockets.

“Oh shit.”

“What?” Draco asks tiredly, because he really needs the night to calm down a bit.

“My wand- it’s not. It was in my pocket when we left.”

Ron groans, Draco fully agrees, but it’s Lucius who sighs. “You’ve lost your wand, Potter?”

Harry meets his gaze albeit a little sheepishly, “Well, I am just a child, sir.”

Once again shocking Draco, Lucius snorts. Actually, honest to Merlin, snorts, like it’s normal to help his son save his enemy and then laugh about it in the middle of the woods with Death Eaters nearby. He almost busts into insane giggles, and then Lucius straightens, eyes going above their heads and out into the distance.

“Get behind me-”

“ _MORSMORDRE!”_

A look of pure terror comes across his father’s face as green light shoots into the sky and the Dark Mark is looming over them.

“Run.” Lucius says, strained. And then he grabs Draco’s hand and the rest link automatically and they’re sprinting all over again, running as fast as they can until a voice screams ‘stupefy’ and his father hits the ground.

A few hexes fly past them, Draco pulls Harry behind him so he’s safe and then a familiar voice calls out and he’s never been more happy to hear a Weasley in his life.

“Wait! _Those are my kids!”_

Father Weasley runs to them, gathering up his children in his arms and doing a quick count of them.

“Fred, George, oh thank god. Ron! Ginny! Where are Ron and-there you are. Are you hurt? No? Thank Merlin- Harry, Hermione, you’re alright? Good and-” his eyes widen, “Draco Malfoy?”

Harry tenses at his side and then a colder, yet still unfortunately familiar voice cuts through them.

“Move.”

Mr. Crouch walks through the children, giving Draco a glare that would rattle him if he wasn’t, well, _him._ The man doesn’t stop moving until he’s in front of Lucius and pointing his wand and the paralyzed body.

“You! You cast it didn’t you! You conjured the Dark Mark, didn’t you, you dirty-”

Draco reacts before he knows what he’s doing, only staying away because Harry still has a tight grip on his hand. “No! He didn’t, sir! He doesn’t even have his wand!”

Mr. Crouch turns a cool gaze on him and Draco doesn’t back down a single centimeter. “Doesn't have his wand? You expect me to believe Lucius Malfoy went somewhere without his wand? What type of fool do you take me for?”

Harry steps closer to him, “He doesn’t, sir. If he had his wand, he would’ve taken Draco away the second those masked men started doing...whatever the hell they were doing.”

“Harry! Language!”

“Sorry, Mr. Wealsey.”

Mr. Crouch seems a little less than convinced, “This is Lucius Malfoy we’re talking about, and you expect me to believe his son?! Someone cast that Dark Mark and if it wasn’t him than it was one of _you!”_

“No it wasn’t!” Hermione cries, Ron’s arms around her so she can’t come forward, or perhaps just to keep her from sobbing on the spot. “Mr. Malfoy and Draco saved our lives today! They helped us escaped those masked men and took us somewhere safe! We were in the forest and Mr. Malfoy told us to get behind him and then the spell was cast! Check his pockets if you must, _he is innocent!”_

Draco has no damned clue why she’s on his father’s side. He knows all four of them, himself included, would be perfectly fine with his father going to jail...except he fucking isn’t. Not for this. Not for something he didn’t do while he was trying to help. And why was he trying to help? What was there for him to gain by helping Draco rescue the Boy Who Lived? What was there-

“Draco,” Harry whispers in his ear, “Mr. Crouch asked why your father didn’t have his wand.”

Sure enough, the others are looking at him but Crouch is still in the middle of a rant, claiming he doesn't believe them for one second and before he can think better he’s opening his stupid mouth.

“He left it at the manor.” Draco calls out, “He wanted me to get better at magic I’ve been struggling with in school so he left me pitch the tent and shrink it, said I needed the practice.”

Crouch gives him an outraged look and turns to start accusing another person, but he can’t pay attention with Harry’s breath on his neck again.

“What’s the real reason?”

Draco almost doesn’t reply, having someone this near is grounding. Plus it’s Harry Potter, the idiot who managed to live year after year so if something fucked up was about to happen to them, having Harry here just meant he would make it out alive. Harry would protect him, keep him safe. He’d fight for Draco just like Draco fights for him because that’s just how it works with heroes. 

“Mother doesn’t trust him to have it.” Draco whispers back right as some old man steps forward and Mr. Weasley tears into him. He suddenly has a whole new respect for the redhead clan.

“You can’t be suggesting that _children_ and a _wandless man_ cast it! This is _Harry Potter_ and my _children!_ Surely you know our backstories?!”

“Yes…” the other man looks ashamed, “Yes I’m aware but the Malfoy boy-”

“Is also a _child!_ Who apparently _saved my kids_ tonight! I should be thanking him- and his father- instead of defending them!”

“Well if they didn’t conjure the Mark then who did?!” Crouch asks in a shrill voice that kinda makes Draco want to rip out his vocal cords. The only reason he doesn’t is because Harry has started rubbing his thumb across the back of Draco’s hand and it’s caused him to finally stop shaking.

“There was someone in the woods!” George calls from where he’s wrapped around Fred, Ginny in the middle of them.

“Mr. Malfoy sensed them, that’s why he told us to get behind him.” Ginny pleads.

“Where?”

Merlin, he _hates_ this man. Talking down to his friends, accusing his father, blaming it on _Harry fucking Potter._ Draco’s seething so much he can barely focus on the conversation until one of the men, thank fuck _someone_ has sense, goes looking where Hermione points and brings back the elf from earlier.

Crouch has suddenly remembered the value of silence as his elf is carried out and laid at his feet, but something about it doesn’t sit right with him. Winky had been terrified of the fighting, she had been trying to get away.

She can’t move, even so Mr. Bagman appears in the clearing looking like a lion caught in a snake’s den. His eyes land on Lucius, then on Draco, and then Winky on the floor as well. 

A lot of arguing went on from there, an elf having a wand? Isn’t that silly? Once an elf was in service to someone they simply said ‘no wands’ and the elf could not pick up a wand. They would burn their hands immediately, before the wand was fully in their grasp. Every pureblood wizard knew that, and someone like Crouch should too…

They all watched her come back to herself once the spell was broken, they all saw the horror on her face when she saw the Dark Mark in the sky, they all heard her panicked cries. And yet no one treated her with an ounce of kindness and for some reason that pissed him the fuck off.

The Old Man yelled at her, accused her of something Draco personally knew couldn’t be true. No one listened to her when she said she didn’t even know _how_ to do it. 

To make matters worse, when the wand in question is held up Harry calls out ‘hey that’s mine! I dropped it…’ because he must have dropped his brain too.

That starts a whole new round of arguments and Draco's so pent up he can _feel_ his magic starting to get testy around him, he’s shocked Harry hasn’t dropped his hand, and when Harry’s accused again Draco nearly lashes out. Really! How the hell do you forget about the Boy Who Lived?

“I is not doing magic with it sir!” Winky cries, “I just be picking it up….but I do not be knowing how to conjure the Dark Mark, sir! Winky wouldn’t dare!”

A couple of red flags stand out against that. Draco locks eyes with his father who’s finally starting to sit up. The man taught Draco almost all he knows that books couldn’t. For starters, when elves picked up wands after their master forbade it, their hands would burn instantly. Instant punishment, because it was such a Big Deal in the wizarding world. He pays close attention to her face and can’t help but notice how similar she looks to his Torture Pixie after the Imperio curse wore off. Both _very_ big red flags, each with the same meaning and Draco can’t help but wonder where _Crouch_ had been when the first Dark Mark was cast. 

Hermione and the others come to her defense, but Draco watches her. He knows, with no doubt in his mind that she’s innocent. Even with Mr. Diggory, Prick In Charge of Something Important, reveals the last spell on Harry’s wand, that was very clearly in her hand. He knows. She didn’t do it.

So when Crouch, officially deemed Big Asshole in Draco’s mind, turns to his elf he can feel himself gearing up to do something stupid. 

Big Asshole throws a glove at Winky’s feet and Draco lets go of Harry’s hand despite the panicked look in his father’s eyes.

“You have something to say, Draco Malfoy?” The man sneers, and because he’s at a breaking point and really fucking fed up with everything, Draco sneers back with ten times the intimidation factor.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

Mr. Weasley shakes his head, trying very desperately to tell him to let it lie, but he can’t. Draco steps behind Winky who freezes with his next words.

“Mr. Crouch, you’re a pureblood wizard, coming from the sacred 28. Are you not?”

Not the question he was expecting but that’s fine by Draco. He can almost feel his father cluing in behind him.

“Why yes I am.”

“Then surely you know that once a house elf has been contracted, when the wizard they’re bound to says ‘no wands’ they can’t even pick one up without burning their hands?”

Mr. Crouch’s face pales, the other’s eyes widen.

“I understand if you’re confused, after all there’s physical proof if you can call it that, but the matter of fact is that Winky clearly did no wrong, as you obviously did not tell her ‘no wands’ for her hands are still here.”

Winky looks up at him and he can’t stop himself from smiling kindly at her. 

“For that matter, since you’ve already dismissed her in a _ruthless_ and very _distasteful_ way, I’d merely like to extend my hand to the elf in question.” He completely ignores the outraged look on Crouch’s face, at least that one looks a little more natural.

“Winky, dry your eyes, you’ll not be going home without a family tonight.”

“Draco-’ his father warns but Draco ignores him too.

“Would you like to come serve me?”

He can practically feel the adults gaping at him, but Harry and Hermione are beaming at him like he personally put the sun in the sky. The hope clouding Winky’s heartbroken eyes is just the cherry on top. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're picking up the pace!!!! also i love wolfstar and annoyed narcissa feat brat draco. how Pure and Good, anyways were you expecting lucius to finally man up for his son? and can we please talk about harry 'no i dont like draco but also let me buy him a goodie' potter and draco 'i will choose harry over my father every single time, but also it's nothing personal despite the fact that he calms me down in a way no one else can' malfoy?


	7. Idiots and Bastards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can’t trust the people meant to protect him, isn’t that plot getting a little tiring?

“You!” 

Another plate goes flying across the living room.

“Idiotic!”

A glass ball that looks suspiciously like one of their Christmas ornaments goes next.

“Bastard!” 

Draco wants to politely ask his mother  _ not  _ to use his old stuffed animals as weapons, but seeing as Narcissa is now conjuring  _ knives  _ from the kitchen, he keeps his mouth closed. Lucius ducks, narrowly avoiding the pointy utensil before holding his hands up.

“Now, darling-”

Honestly, he was in enough trouble already. How was talking going to help?

_ “One  _ day! I leave him with you for  _ one fucking day!” _

Draco catches Snape’s eyes, they’re gonna be here for at least all afternoon.

Needless to say, Narcissa was a little less than happy when the two Malfoys returned in the wee hours of the morning. First, she had panicked because Lucius managed to get quite the gash when he was stunned in the forest. They spent a good five minutes holding her off from marching to the Ministry of Magic building and setting it on fire. Draco really thought the worse had happened and then she had hugged him, still ranting even though no one had told her about the Death Eaters yet, and his legs gave out. His ears were  _ still  _ ringing from her scream, and because she had been so busy freaking out over Lucius, she had completely missed Winky, who thought his mother’s breakdown would be a perfect time to finally say something. 

Never in his life, not even when she found out about Lucius’s abusing him, had she been so angry. She nearly hexed them all straight into beds, and would have too if Snape hadn’t shown up and snatched her wand away from her before asking what in the  _ hell  _ was going on. 

Draco had pulled Winky to the side and told her to make some clothing that  _ wasn't  _ covered in blood and dirt while Snape said ‘What do you mean you don’t know?’ A prime time too, exactly two seconds before he was scared for life. 

When Narcissa asked what he was doing at their manor so early in the morning, he told her about the Death Eaters. Draco remembers the moment every time he closes his eyes. Narcissa’s usually chestnut hair had turned silver and raised up like snakes, branched out like a tree threatening to strangle them all. Sometimes he forgets how scary she can be when she loses control, at least now he’s certain she really isn’t mad about the whole Being Friends with Harry Potter thing. She was, however,  _ fucking furious _ about their previous night’s engagements. Snape arrived right after the grandfather clock stroked seven, three hours later and she’s still ranting.

_ “Death Eaters?!  _ And you didn’t think to bring him  _ straight home?!  _ Don’t you give me that ‘I didn’t have a wand’ bullshit!”

Draco sighs, discreetly snapping his fingers and praying Winky gets the hint. She’s at his side in an instant, bowing until her nose almost touches the floor.

“You called, Master?”

He keeps his voice low, “Can you bring me some tea? Severus looks like he could use some too. We both like mint, plain and warm but not overly hot.”

Winky nods and a second later his favorite teacup is in his hands, Snape sends him a half smirk back.

“Thank you, Winky. That will be all.”

But Winky doesn’t leave, she looks a little hesitant, ringing her hands, reminding Draco every bit of his younger self when he was in trouble. “Is everything okay? If you have something to tell me, I implore you to do so.”

Winky looks up at him with wide, slightly afraid, eyes. “Sir, what you be doing for Winky is very kind, sir. Winky cannot find a way to thank you, but Winky promises to be the very best house elf Master Draco ever did have!”

“Promise, huh?” Harry and the Feel Good Crew  _ must  _ be rubbing off on him. There’s no other reason he could  _ possibly  _ be feeling a bit tight in his chest area.

“Promise.” His elf replies. And fuck, he’s usually pretty good about sharing with his friends, but he loves the idea of Winky being his. No more ministry assholes to hurt her. Maybe it’s because something about her reminds him of Dobby, but he’s very much looking forward to their partnership.

He dismisses her with a smile the second Narcissa whirls on him.

“Don’t you send that elf away! Call her back this instant we have things to discuss!”

On the plus side, she’s no longer speaking French  _ words _ . There was a moment when she was so angry she was cussing at them in Greek and he really thought she was going to set  _ them  _ on fire. By now she’s calmed down enough that it’s safe, or well, not life threatening for him to speak up.

“Mama,” He says with a slight accent because  _ she’s  _ speaking in a French accent and it might just be the difference between a plate to the head or a smile. “May I explain before I call Winky in?”

Narcissa’s hair is starting to rise again, but Sisily pops in with her favorite chair and a cup of tea. Sisily doesn’t dare speak, but Narcissa sees the look of despair that crosses the elf’s eyes, following them to the pile of broken objects on the floor by her husband. Glass here, wood there, definitely some of the expensive stuff, too. So she sighs and plops herself down, still glaring and fuming, but at least finally willing to  _ talk.  _

“Explain. Before I change my mind.” 

The accent is starting to fade too, she looks tired instead. Which she _should_ be, considering that none of them have slept and she was up with Sirius and who knows else casting taxing protective magic all night. After this conversation he’s going to make her lounge in the living room and watch books with him, LuLu, Winky _and_ Snape.

Maybe his father could sit in the armchair while they took the couches.

Draco launches into his explanation, leaving out how  _ long  _ he’s been helping Harry, although he knows Lucius isn’t  _ that  _ stupid. He refuses to admit that a world without Harry seems utterly boring to anyone, himself included. 

His thoughts tread dangerous waters as he recounts. Thankfully his voice doesn’t say shit it’s not supposed to...but his mind. It just  _ lingers.  _ Harry’s face in the clearing, how he took stock of the situation and didn’t look the least bit afraid. How he stood in the middle of all those people, and yes Draco fucking has eyes and is humble enough to admit fit when he sees it. Even if Fit wears snitch-themed pajama bottoms. Fit also hugged him so tight it hurt, and gripped his hand until it forced him to think. Fit gave him a smile before they started running. Harry hadn’t let go of his hand once, not even when he lost his wand. Not when Lucius told them to get behind him, not when Crouch was in the clearing. He held tight the whole time, not letting Draco stray too far, and that somehow feels like it means something.

Like how Harry being Fit  _ means something, _ or how the effects of Harry’s smile on him  _ means something.  _ Or how him being nice last year _means_ _something,_ how the way he glared at Blaise _means something,_ or the look of terror on his face every time Draco gets hurt _means_ _something._ Don’t get him started on how green the boy’s eyes are- they’re literally  _ Slytherin Green!  _ How can that  _ not  _ mean something-

“And Winky? What possible reason could you have for acquiring her?”

There’s no anger behind her voice, which means she must be coming around, but Draco doesn’t really have a reason. The only problem with that is if he shrugs or says ‘I don’t know’ Narcissa will definitely hex his head off. 

“It just...it wasn’t right.” He says, catching her completely by surprise. “Everyone in that clearing knew it wasn’t right, and that Crouch was just being awful. The first thing I did was make a point of that when I told her ‘no wands’ and she flinched from the burn mine gave her. And mine was an inch away! He talked bad about the Malfoy name and I will not stand for that from a man who accused  _ Harry Potter  _ of summoning the Dark Mark. Acquiring Winky was a way of putting him in his place, so everyone can see that he's a dirty liar, plus now Sisily won’t be torn between you and I for everything. And before you tell me how stupid I’m being, I know. But it doesn’t really strain on my magic here because our forests  _ are  _ magic so she’s been feeding off them more than me, and the same will happen if I bring her to Hogwarts.”

His mother does look happier at the thought of extra hands to keep him safe.

“You are to promise, no,  _ swear  _ to me that you’ll tell me if she becomes too draining. I won’t take her away, merely bind her to both of us so she can draw from my magic as well. The only reason I’m allowing this is because you will one day be the Head of the Malfoy house, as such this is adequate training on how not to lose a loyal house elf-” Lucius flinches- “Naturally I have a condition. Winky will bring me reports of you once a month and hand deliver our mail so it is not monitored.”

“That’s too much to put on one house elf.” Draco fires back, “Sisily should bring me your mail and Winky bring you mine.” He leaves out the part where this will let him check on her too.

Narcissa catches it anyways, smiling that soft smile he’s been wishing for since they arrived. “Very well. May I meet this ‘Winky’ of yours?”

“Only if you agree to lounge the day away after.”

He can see the relief on Lucius’s and Snape’s face. In all reality, they had a reason to be so pent up. Narcissa would  _ never  _ hurt her son, but they weren’t as much of a priority.

“Deal.”

They hit it off almost instantly. 

“Did you make that yourself in such a short time?”

Winky nods, still in a deep bow. “Yes, Mistress. Master Draco told me to, and I wished to make my Master proud.”

He can tell how difficult speaking is for her, they’ll have to work on it later. Like  _ way  _ later. Like next week type of later because the other elves are starting to clean up the mess his mother made and he’s dragging her and Snape to the living room. LuLu forces his father to join them and before he knows it his plan is playing out perfectly. 

Draco plops down on the couch, casting the spell Blaise had drilled into him on his mother’s favorite book, and then leaning back for the show. Narcissa shares his couch, idly sipping tea and trying not to doze off. Snape doesn’t even hide it, blinking in and out of consciousness on the couch opposite to them. And Lucius...he sits in his old armchair, looking positively petrified at the white Kneazle that rubs against his leg before making her way to Draco’s side.

The only thing that could make it  _ more  _ perfect would be his friends here with them, Hermione and Ron could sit closest to the fireplace. Pansy would  _ demand  _ that Snape get off  _ her  _ couch that she always shares with Blaise. Remus and Sirius would probably force themselves into the empty chair across from his father and Harry….well Harry could sit beside him, with LuLu cuddled between their laps. 

Then it would be perfect.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco’s only half surprised to see his cousin in the foyer the next morning, idly playing with a few flowers. Her hair falls around her like a veil, hiding everything above the hem of her skirt, but he’d know her anywhere. If nothing else, the bright yellow shoes are a dead giveaway.

“Luna?” 

She turns a little too quickly, looking like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t. At least he can clearly see her face now. Mother had sent Winky to tell him they have guests, but he wasn’t expecting this pleasant surprise.

“Good morning, Draco.”

Trying to be polite, no doubt, but he sees her eyes lock on LuLu and sees the way her hands twitch at her side. Draco sighs, reminding himself that Luna  _ is  _ younger and it’s been a while since he’s seen her, and she’s always been a little shy to new people. He picks up the cat and closes the distance between them, “Luna, this is LuLu, my Kneazle.”

Luna reaches out and it’s no surprise that LuLu melts into the touch, happily purring and rubbing her face into pale hands. It gets a giggle out of his relative, her entire body relaxing and Draco can’t help but smile. He hasn’t seen her in years, even when she got put into the same school he was also so busy she slipped his mind, but trying to keep people alive does that to you.

She’s here now, stirring up old memories he thought to be long forgotten.

So far, his mother has managed to get in contact with a few of her old enemies, and the ones she couldn’t win over Sirius, Remus, or Bella Zabini did. Family came first, cousins and distant relatives included. Sirius and Remus were a given, they love Harry and Draco has a feeling they’re planning on stealing the boy away from that awful place Dumbledore forces him to stay. He’s perfectly willing to help in the plan, as soon as he gets some free time on his plate. The Lovegoods stood with Dumbledore the first war, and Pandora was close to Narcissa even before she married, so winning them over was really more of forcing his parents to deal with Xenophilius. Luna still had her mind intact, but her father had lost nearly everything when he lost his wife.

The man constantly forgets that Luna lost a mother, but Draco doesn’t forget. Neither does Narcissa.

Draco takes Luna’s freehand and leads her to the photo hall before she can even think to ask. Sometimes he forgets how many people the war affected, how many relationships it ruined. But in his mother’s little black box is photograph after photograph of all the people she once held close- the people they pray can help them now.

Photos of Narcissa and Sirius, dancing as children. Auntie Bella flipping over a game of Wizard’s Chess Auntie Dora had just won sometime in their teens. A single photo of Auntie Dora’s child that Narcissa never got to meet. Narcissa, Bella Zabini, and Katheriene Parkinson on the day of their Hogwarts graduation. A fifteen year old Pandora, blonde hair spread across Narcissa’s lap. It’s Luna’s favorite photo because they look happy.

Draco hands it to her without a word and Luna pulls him in for a hug.

“Thank you for not forgetting.”

“Thank you for standing with us.”

Luna cracks a grin at him, LuLu happily perched in her arms. “Thank  _ you  _ for being on the right side, I think you’re the reason your parents have been able to change so much. Mama always said that mothers will do anything for their children.”

Draco wants to protest because there’s a  _ lot  _ going on in that one reply, but Luna’s always known things she shouldn’t, always been able to see through people like some sort of powerful Legilimens. Some days it’s rather creepy, but today he just smiles because he knows what the last few words means. Mothers will do anything for their children, Pandora included.

Even if it means never seeing them again.

Luna ends up spending the next few days with him because Xenophilius has some idea to get Lucius fully healed and Narcissa enjoys watching him suffer. The two men spend the day yelling at each other while she laughs at them, meanwhile Draco and Luna find all types of ways to fill the hours. 

Like exploding snap, catching up on homework, exploring weird ends to the maze in the left garden, playing with each other’s hair, dancing to weird tunes in the ballroom. Luna is particularly happy to meet Winky, though the elf can’t say the same.

“Luna, this is Winky, my personal house elf. Winky, this is my cousin Luna.”

Winky had almost screamed when Luna pulled her in for a hug, “It’s so wonderful to meet someone so loyal and kind. You’re exactly what Draco will be needing soon, and I dare say you’ve made wonderful improvements to the Malfoy Elves Uniforms.”

He hadn’t noticed the change until she pointed it out, but now that he thinks about it even Sisily has new clothes! Little green dresses and tuxedos with the Malfoy crest across the heart. Draco is sure to tell her how pleased he is.

At the moment Luna is sitting crossed legged on the couch, playing with Draco’s hair as he reads his final Charms assignments out loud.

“Can’t they give us something a little more interesting?”

Luna brushes his bangs back, he really needs a haircut, “You love charms, perhaps you could get a side project to fill your spare time?”

Draco’s about to laugh at the thought of him having spare time when his mother comes in. The two on the couch sit up so she can kiss their foreheads.

“Afternoon, loves, care for another friend to join the lively party you’re having?”

Draco shrugs, pretty sure his mum is calling him a loser, but before he can reply Narcissa steps to the side, revealing a nervous looking Millicent Bulstrode. 

“I believe you know Miss Bulstrode? I’m having tea with her father and just knew she’d rather spend time with you rather than the two of us.”

Millicent looks like she’s seen death himself, quickly rushing out words so she doesn’t seem impolite. “Mrs. Malfoy! It is an honor to be invited to your home- I would never be so rude as to-”

Draco badly hides a snort behind a cough, then kisses his mother on the cheek, idly wondering if he should bring up the level of alcohol he plans to consume in the drinking game he and Blaise have been developing after being friends with three Gryffindors for a year. Instead he walks her to the door of his living room, kissing her cheek and wishing her a silent ‘good luck’. The Bulstrodes aren’t as uptight on blood purity as the Parkinsons once were, but they also have a fear of Riddle roughly the size of Africa, so there’s really no telling how their meeting will go.

If Mr. Bulstrode is anywhere near the level of terrified Millicent is, maybe his mother can just glare until she gets her way.

“Care for a game of exploding snaps?”

“Didn’t you just plan my murder with you mother?”

“Please, darling,” Draco laughs, “We’re not stupid enough to do it in front of your face, besides Luna is here. We can’t murder with Luna in the room, it’s just not right.”

Millicent grins at him and he decides she’s okay for a Bulstrode. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It feels like the longest summer of his life, but it’s over far too soon and before he knows it Narcissa is kissing him on the cheek and reminding him of who he can trust. From Gryffindor, he knows Harry, Ron, and Hermione would never betray him. They’re not wired to do that, and Pansy and Blaise would kill them if they did. His two best friends are a given, as is Luna, but he’s a little more than surprised to find out just how deeply Millie is on their side. Draco had completely forgotten about her muggle mother, and damn if mother’s weren’t a common theme in his life. While he’s happy to have some allies in a few houses, the fact that Crabbe and Goyle didn’t make the list hurts. 

He can’t trust the people meant to protect him, isn’t that plot getting a little tiring?

Pansy and Blaise hold off just long enough for him to close the door before they’re on him, crushing him and demanding answers that he refused to give in his letters, which makes them a whole hour late to join their other friends, and everyone with an ounce of intelligence knows what that means:

Hermione almost pulling their arms off to get them inside.

“Where  _ have  _ you been?! We’ve been waiting for ages!” she whirls to Draco, “And you! You stupid! Idiotic! Moron! What have you done with Winky? Have you any idea how  _ dangerous  _ it is to take up a house elf?! If you don't treat her better than that blithering asshole Crouch I'll have your head! Ron told me all about it and you’re  _ lucky  _ I don’t have access to the Malfoy Manor because I would’ve strung you up by your toes for trying something so ridiculously thoughtless!”

Ron pats her arm, gently moving her out of the way, “Don’t kill him when we’ve just gotten him back, ‘Mione.” He carefully squeezes Draco’s arm and accepts a kiss on the cheek from Pansy, shaking Blaise’s hand. “It’s good to see you all-”

Harry’s shoving him to the side before he can finish, glaring Draco down, “Did he hurt you for it? I swear to Merlin! Not being able to send you letters is torture! I know he’s not as much of an asshole but I thought he would do something horrible to you and I’ve been so worried but you don’t have a bruise on you! Unless they’re hidden-are they hidden? I fucking-”

“Harry!” Draco laughs, grabbing the boy by his arms, “Calm down, will you? I’m fine. Not a hair out of place, besides he’s lucky Mother let him live, I don’t think she’d be so kind if he tried it again.”

Pansy rolls her eyes, forcing a kiss on Harry’s cheek before sliding into the window seat beside Ron. Blaise pats his shoulder, slightly amused, and then promptly shoves them into empty seats so he can brag to Hermione about how cool his new Green House is.

“Mum let me put it together over the summer, I’ve started growing Screaming Roses and-”

“Screaming Roses?! Those aren't in any of my books! Are they like Mandrakes?”

Across from them Ron is practically begging, “Please, Pans, I know you  _ love  _ clothing and once you see my dress robes I know you won’t be able to say no!”

“Ronald, I am much too busy- _ what the fuck am I looking at?!  _ These are your  _ dress robes?!  _ Oh, darling, of  _ course  _ I’ll help you, but just so you know it’s going to cost you.”

Harry could join either of their conversations, and so could Draco. He’s very interested in whatever Garden Hell Blaise managed to pull together in the few weeks they were home and now on Malfoy Island, and they’re both more than willing to make fun of the hideous fabric Pansy’s already picking apart. Even so, neither of them do anything but move a little closer, and then Draco pulls out a book and Harry decides he might as well close his eyes since he’s probably gotten little to no sleep worrying about his friends.

It’s fine, really. It’s not like Draco  _ wanted  _ to talk to Harry or anything. He’d very much like to know how  _ his  _ summer was, but they could talk later.

Draco’s ten pages into the fourth book Blaise lent him on Medical Magic when there’s a ‘thump’ and a warmth on his shoulder. One look to his left and he nearly stops working all together.

Harry’s head is on him, giving him a perfect view of things he’s never really thought of. Like collarbones that peek beneath his unbuttoned shirt, long lashes against cinnamon skin. Draco fucking loves cinnamon. Hair that’s getting as long as his own, curling in thick black strands that look like silk and smell like rainwater. Pink lips that are unfairly shiny-does he wear chap stick?-glasses askew and looking dangerously close to breaking again so Draco rolls his eyes and carefully removes the things. He casts the unbreakable charm he’s been meaning to cast since first year, really, and then places them on the window seal to his right.

Four pairs of eyes watch him, like he’s doing something weird even though he isn’t. He’s been taking care of Harry forever now! It’s not his fault he’s oblivious to things that don’t mean instant death for all of them. Really! He just took note of some not so annoying qualities and removed glasses! How is that a view-worthy offense?

Pansy winks at him, Blaise smiles like he knows something. Draco’s face  _ burns  _ but it’s not that bad until Hermione starts giggling and Ron wiggles his eyebrows.

Whatever they think they know, they don’t. 

And Draco’s face isn’t warm at all.

He’s not blushing even a little bit.

It’s just hot in their carriage, and the body heat Harry gives off is  _ insane,  _ kinda like a furnace that would be  _ amazing  _ during the Holidays, but it’s just a bit of light leaning. That’s all.

Nothing out of the normal for him, nothing incriminating.

But fuck, if Harry’s this comfortable just leaning on him and sleeping, would he be comfortable in bed too? 

Draco shakes his head, cheeks fucking  _ burning  _ because he didn’t mean it like it! It just sounds weird! See, he was thinking of Harry like a pillow! Would he be a nice pillow?! Because Draco  _ knows  _ he has muscles, but he smells great and is  _ very  _ warm which means Winky would have to wash less blankets, and the idea of forcing Harry to lie still in his arms seems like a  _ very  _ effective way of keeping him from Not Dying, and surely that’s innocent, isn’t it? Why else would he want Harry in bed-

He’s pretty sure actual steam is coming out of his ears, thank Merlin Harry’s not awake to see it, but his friends are. And his friends are assholes, so naturally they make fun of him the entire fucking ride.

It’s a blessing that none of them are Legilimens, or worse, friends with Luna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up, folks? it's 3 am and I have not slept and have been crying my eyes out because everything is fucky wucky so here's a chapter with hella good things! Like luna! I love luna! And Draco being a Disaster Gay! We love a Disaster Gay! We are a Disaster Gay!   
> Also peep Narcissa literally going from 'Lucius! You're bleeding what the fuck!' to 'Lucius why in the fuck aren't you bleeding?'


	8. Geia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Draco and Hermione can team up and make a detailed book of all the things he does that pisses them off. It’d be a bestseller in The Daily Prophet, he’s sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: in this chapter there's a downward spiral to an anxiety attack, dissociation, and mentions of self harm and abuse! Please do not read if it will badly impact your mental stability!

“I still can’t believe they’re canceling Quidditch!”

Pansy rolls her eyes, looking longingly at Millie’s book like she might snatch it away just so she doesn’t have to participate in the same conversation they’ve been having for the past hour. It would work as annoying if she wasn’t muttering ballgown ideas to herself in the hallway.

Draco completely ignores her, turning to Blaise with wide angry eyes, “I _know!_ No inter-house cup? No Quidditch? So that the six and seventh years can compete in a death competition?”

“What are the rest of us supposed to do?”

“Study?” Pansy glares at the boys, “Work? Design the best dress this school has ever seen? Maybe not die for one year? I’d very much like to have just _one_ relaxing year.”

“Your version of relaxing is still more anxiety-inducing than a Death Tournament.”

“Hey,” Draco shrugs, “It’s not being mauled by a werewolf in front of your deranged criminal cousin.”

Pansy can, and will, be cursing them both later, she’s just annoyed because she won’t have access to her sketchbook for the next hour. Millie’s just lucky her book is big enough to hide her grin. The four of them continue making their way down to the dungeons, and yes, they should probably sleep and get ready for tomorrow, but no one’s under the illusion that it’ll actually happen. 

Blaise pushes past them, following the other Slytherins into the common room and making a beeline for the open couch by the fire. “How big is your family now anyways, Draco?”

“Oh, you know.”

Pansy snorts, “It’s as huge as ever. He’s related to almost everyone. The Blacks, obviously, through his mother. The Lovegoods, I think they’re twice removed cousins?”

“Thrice removed.”

“Thrice removed, then. I know you’ve always been friendly with Luna,” She settles in next to Blaise, pulling Draco and Millie down with her, “The Rosier Family, though they stopped being big after the whole mess with Grindelwald-”

“We disowned him and refused to associate with him,” Draco clarifies, already laying on Pansy’s lap so she can play with his hair.

Pansy lightly slaps his head for interrupting, “Fine then, but you’re still blood related to them. The Lestranges too, though, don’t you _dare_ interrupt me again Draco Malfoy so help me I _will_ shrink all of your robes, as I was _saying,_ the Malfoys no longer associate with them because of, well, you know. Thanks to the Lestranges they’re also related to the Gages, Perrots, and Tremblays, very distantly of course, no marriages or even affairs, I don’t believe. Who else?”

She’ll pull his hair for this, but he doesn’t mind, “Flint.”

“Flint?” Ouch, okay, on second thought he should’ve kept his mouth shut. “Like _Flint_ Flint?”

“Yes?” 

“Oh Merlin,” At least she’s trying to make it up to his poor scalp, Blaise is just snickering like the asshole he is, “Through the Black side aren’t you? Oh, love, I’m so sorry. No wonder Granger thought you bullied your way on to the Quidditch team. I think that might be worse than you being related to the Weasleys...”

Blaise giggles, “I always forget about that…”

Millie looks like her entire world has been changed, “The _Malfoys_ are related to the _Weasleys?!”_

He would ask her what the problem is, but he gets it. The idea of him and Ron being related isn’t that bad, Girl Weasley stood up for his father, so did the Twins, so they’re not awful. But he’s _heard_ some shit about Percy, not that he liked the idiot in the first place back when he still went to Hogwarts. Placing him in the Ministry made no sense whatsoever, they have enough egotistical assholes as is. There’s two more, and he’s never really heard of them, so he can’t really have an opinion on them. If they’re like Ron, he doesn’t mind one bit.

Draco tunes back in to Pansy explaining his relatives in other countries and sits up so fast he almost smacks Blaise in the face. “Fleur!”

“Excuse me?”

“Can you at least _try_ not to maim me?!”

“What’s a Fleur?”

Merlin, he’s _so_ excited. “Fleur Delacour! She’s related to Luna and I, and _she goes to Beauxbatons!_ She’s gonna be coming to Hogwarts!”

“The Beauxbatons?” Blaise smirks, “So she’s hot-”

“Don’t you fucking dare. She’s like _Luna!_ You won’t hit on Luna, would you?” Blaise shakes his head. “Then don’t hit on Fleur. Just, in general, no hitting on my relatives. It’s weird.”

Pansy rolls her eyes, Draco’s convinced they’re going to get stuck in the back of her head one day, and turns to Millie, begging to braid her hair while Blaise moans about how unfair his life is. Snape comes into the room soon enough, giving his usual first year speech and sends them all off to bed. Draco would usually go up and demand evening tea with his godfather, but they had tea yesterday and Severus’s already told him how busy he’ll be this year. Their first tea is scheduled for Wednesday, so he just smiles and takes the smirk he gets back as a win. Then he lets Pansy kiss his cheek ‘goodnight’ and wishes her and Millie the same before following Blaise to the boy’s fourth year room. 

He walks straight into his friend’s weirdly firm back.

“What the fuck, Blaise? Hurry up, I’m ready to see LuLu-”

Draco blinks.

There are only two beds. 

He blinks again, just to make sure, and then holds his arm up. Blaise pinches him, it hurts, which means he isn’t dreaming but….

There are still only two beds.

It’s not an ugly room, per say. Much like the common room, there are windows into the Black Lake, giving a view to sparkling water and little creatures that like to swim all hours of the day. LuLu’s chasing a fish by the bed furthest from the door, tucked between the wall and a single ornate black nightstand. Their trunks are nowhere to be seen, but they each have dressers that match their side tables, they each have lush forest green chaises at the foot of their beds, they each have waning imperial flowers that someone has transfigured into soft white lights, they both have Slytherin green comforters on black poster bed frames and they each have a chair right by the fire separating the windows on the long side of the bedroom.

And they both only have one bed each. 

Which makes no fucking sense.

“Maybe we’re sharing?” Blaise asks.

He’s _scared._ Blaise scared is never fucking good. Worried, annoyed, tired, Draco can handle all of those but Blaise was one of the fuckers that forced him into a blood contract, he’s the son of Belle Zabini, one of the few people that Slytherins bow and _listen_ to. Blaise has been scared so few times Draco can count them on one hand, and all of them were pretty valid. 

The first was when he accidentally destroyed Belle’s evening gown, and the only reason he lived through it was because Pansy had been wanting to make a dress anyways, and Blaise is by no means a coward, it’s just that no one fancies dying at the ripe age of eight. Second was when he and Pansy had thought Draco was going to get himself killed, and yes it’s over protective but if one of them had been sneaking around the castle while a giant murderous beast was on the loose, well, he honestly would’ve done the same thing. Blaise isn’t nearly as crazy as his mother is about his safety, but no one wants to see their friends killed by their own stupid actions. The third and last time Blaise had been scared was when Narcissa told them that Riddle is back, but by fuck everyone should be scared of that. 

Now there’s a fourth time to add to the list.

See, when Blaise is scared he’s exactly like he always is. It took _years_ for Draco to figure out the subtle differences. There’s a slight tremor in his left hand, but his right one is still. His shoulders tenses roughly a centimeter, and he won’t look anyone in the eye. Instead he stares either at the nose or the side of someone’s face, but never directly in the eyes. Draco’s thankful for it, he doesn’t know what he would do if he saw fear in Blaise’s expression and he never wants to find out. 

So yes, now there’s a fourth time.

Because there are only two beds.

And Crabbe and Goyle were at dinner, but they didn’t say a word. 

So, if he puts together the facts he has, Draco can figure out _why_ Blaise is scared, and it fucking terrifies him too.

Crabbe and Goyle have shared a room with them for four years. They’ve spent so many countless nights cramming, watching books, playing with new spells, shit talking professors and people they didn’t like. Four _years_ of _four_ people. And yet, there’s only two beds.

Which leaves him with the question: why are there only two beds?

And the only logical fucking answer he can think of is Tom fucking, bitch-faced, homicidal maniac Riddle and his merry gang of violent neanderthals. 

It makes sense, doesn’t it? Their fathers were Death Eaters, like the _willing_ type of Death Eaters. Not like Lucius, or his mother’s parents, or his Aunts and Uncles, they _wanted_ to do it. Like the type of people his father had to _work_ to clear, the whole reason their sons were so keen to keep Draco safe before was because they wouldn’t be _alive_ without his family. 

But now there are rumors at every corner, people whispering about _his_ return, how _he_ will be back soon, how those who followed _him_ should be preparing. 

Narcissa said they weren’t safe, that they refused to even think of purebloods who don’t support the cause.

There’s only two-

“Draco, love, you’re hyperventilating, and I’m pretty sure my arm is going to fall off if you don’t let go.”

Three blinks later and holy fuck when did he get inside the room?

Blaise has somehow managed to sit him on what he assumes is his bed, even though he has a death grip on Blaise’s shaky arm and has more than likely been useless the past few seconds. Blaise wipes at the wetness on his cheek, and Draco thanks everything for his friend’s keen sense on how much he _hates_ people knowing about his very much existing and fragile heart.

“Merlin-” why does he sound so bad all the time now? “Fuck, dude it’s all fucking, it’s _real_ now, isn’t it? It’s not just keeping Harry safe anymore, we’re gonna have to fight our friends and-fuck- our families and he’s not even _back_ yet and there’s already a divide?!”

Blaise just brushes a hand through his hair, “Now, love, there’s no way to tell-”

“You _hear_ the whispers, Blaise! My mother is _gathering an army,_ and people are bound to figure it out, okay? The people we’re going to have to fight against are _going to fucking figure it out!_ No one is safe!”

“We’re safe for now.” Blaise forces him into a hug, but it’s probably just a way to shut him up while also trying to choke him into calming the hell down, “Okay? Me, you, and Pans. The three of us forever, right? From five until the end of time, remember?” Draco nods, “We’ve made it through so much shit at this point a war is nothing. I’d also like to point out that there’s no guarantee a war will even happen. And Harry, well he’s _Harry._ He’s never failed before, and he’s fought Riddle at least three times and won every time, right?” Another nod. “Even when he was at full power against baby Harry, the guy just vanished after one curse. Harry’s got this, you said it yourself, he won’t lose. He’s got Ron and Hermione, and they’ve got the three of us and we’ve never failed before, we have _a lot_ of people on our side now, and we have an entire year to _breathe_ and figure out how to do this.”

Draco buries a little deeper in his chest, huffing a snort when LuLu licks at his toes.

“You’d make a great minister, you know that?”

Blaise pulls him towards the bathrooms, “I save you from a panic attack and you insult me?”

“It’s true, you’re very good at getting things done.”

“Anyone’s better than the current guy, now hurry up, the sooner we shower the sooner we get to go to bed.”

It should feel weird to shower together, but they’ve been doing it since they were kids, and Blaise has already seen his scars so he doesn’t think anything of it until Blaise catches his wrist and holds it up.

“This is new.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

It’s not even _on_ his wrist, firstly. Normally he just goes over the scars on his hips, or the ones on just thighs, but he remembers this one. The night after The Quidditch World Cup. He couldn’t get the flashes of muggles out of his mind. Confused about his father, running on two hours of sleep, probably not his best decision ever. But he just wanted to feel a little bit, and it matches the cut his father had given him from that damned cursed knife, the one that is _finally_ just a scab and an angry red line. A matching set. Symmetry. 

Call him a little unstable, but two lines is better than one as far as aesthetics go.

Now he thinks that it was probably not worth it, because Blaise looks pissed and worried at the same time and that _never_ bodes well for him. That’s how he ended up in a blood contract, who knows what he and Pansy will do _now._

“How long?”

Like, how long is the cut? He doesn’t know, it’s not like he takes a measuring tape to his arms, he’s not _that_ sick in the head. Or like...how long has it been since he hacked at his skin like a wannabe lumberjack. Do those still exist? Who’s to say, honestly. Who cares? Who-

“Draco.” Blaise’s other hand slips under his chin and he’s staring into deep brown eyes, “Focus, darling, how long have you been doing this to yourself?”

Oh. That ‘how long’.

Sensible Draco would not answer because he knows Blaise is going to either give him hell or watch him like a hawk, or both which is the worst and most likely to happen. However, Blaise is shaking. And Blaise does better when there’s someone else to focus on. And, it’s an asshole move he knows, but he doesn’t know how to handle it if _Blaise_ breaks down, so he’s breaking down. 

Fuck it, he _deserves_ a small mental breakdown. It’s been _hell_ or _weird as shit_ since he was eleven, he has every Merlin given right to-

“Okay, you’ve got to work with me here.”

They’re out of the shower, he has no idea how or why they got back into the room, but they’re here. LuLu’s glaring at Blaise, _refusing_ to leave his side, and Blaise is glaring back with a large t-shirt in his hands. Draco appears to be shirtless.

Which makes sense because it is rather cold.

But he doesn’t need a shirt, he needs to just sleep a little bit, and there’s a bed and-

Blaise tucks them in, petting LuLu who’s wiggled in between them even though they were _just_ standing. 

They’re both wizards, but Blaise definitely is a little more magical than most.

Somehow _his_ fingers start moving through white hair too, and then playing with Blaise’s hand on top of LuLu’s stomach. He still hasn’t answered the question.

“Since last year…”

Blaise freezes, “What?”

“You asked me how long...since last year.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

They’re quiet for a moment, Draco watches the fish swimming in the moonlit lake. 

“Please don’t tell Pansy.”

There’s no reply so he feels the need to clarify.

“Or Ron, or Hermione, or Millie. Harry is also off limits, he’d freak.”

He still doesn’t get a response so he starts forming an argument in his head but it’s very difficult when his thoughts won’t fucking _work_ with him and he’s _tired_ and LuLu is _warm_ and Blaise is like an added security measure and he’s so, _so,_ close to falling asleep and forgetting about the other empty bed. 

“If you do it again I’m telling them. For now, we’ll keep it between us. But I get to inspect you every week for new ones, and if I find out this is what you’ve been using my medical books-“

“It’s not. I was looking in those for when mum tries to kill father again and if we do go to war having a medic never hurts and I already know the basics thanks to, well, ya know, and it just made sense-“

“Go to bed before I change my mind and tell them anyways.”

Draco was planning on going to bed _regardless,_ there’s no need to add a threat to the discussion. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Hermione’s pissed off at _something,_ which is scary in itself, but even worse is the fact that they have to find a new hidden classroom, because their old one is currently undergoing construction. 

It’s like they’re trying to add to Hermione’s fire.

“We’ll have to find a new one!” 

Pansy slaps a hand over her mouth, “Maybe if you’re a little _louder_ the _whole school_ will know!”

He’d roll his eyes, but Pans has a point. No one knows where _anyone_ stands right now, not exactly the time to be testing the waters, and it’s not exactly safe for them to be seen together even if Narcissa is secretly on their side.

“We could use The Chamber.”

Draco whirls on him, which is really a bad decision because he looks a little too cute this morning to be intimidating. Harry winces, now is so not the time. “Have you lost your mind? _The Chamber?_ Where Giant Scary Snake tried to fucking eat you?”

“It’s actually not a bad idea,” Ron shrugs, “I mean no one but Harry can get down there, and if he teaches us how to open it, we can get down there too, so it’s probably one of the safest places, and the snake is dead, right?”

Harry pauses. 

Hermione doesn’t like that, “It _is_ dead, right?”

Draco seems unsure too, which can’t be good.

 _“Guys.”_ Oh fuck, even Blaise and Pansy look a little upset. But, if they’ve taught him anything it's to leave wiggle room.

“Probably.”

He can count to three before Hermione lets out a noise that sounds a little like a rat dying. “Probably?!”

“I'm like ninety percent sure-”

"What the fuck, Harry.”

Blaise and Pansy look ready to murder them both. “You should be a _hundred_ percent sure!”

Draco shrugs, “Okay, so Harry and I will go down to the chamber and see if it’s clear-”

“You absolutely will not-”

“You could get hurt-” 

“If it’s alive-”

“Listen!” Dear fuck they really are going to end up alerting the entire school with Harry’s own big mouth. “I can talk to it, listen and maybe even talk it down. Worse comes to worse, Draco and I are the best at dueling and the least likely to die, plus I’ve already survived it once. How hard can a second time be?”

Hermione is going to throttle him in his sleep. “If you get killed you won’t have me to blame.” She huffs out of their little corridor, bumping his and Ron’s shoulders on the way out. The four of them exchange looks and then Draco finally asks.

“What’s her problem?”

“Oh ya know, slavery and unfair treatment of living creatures.”

Ron tries to explain a little further, but the bewildered look their Slytherin friends have is too rare to not gawk at. It’s like they’re not even aware of the shit happening around them. The bell cuts them off, so it will just have to wait until their Thursday study’s session. 

Class is relatively boring as far as first days go. There’s Care of Magical Creatures with Slytherins, but he can’t talk to Draco _or_ Blaise, and yes he’s happy to see Hagrid, it just sucks that he can’t be happy to see his friends too. At least Draco doesn’t get hurt like last year, if he can keep the whole ‘not being hurt’ thing up for the rest of the week George will be twenty coins up and making Fred do his homework for the rest of the month. Herbology with the Hufflepuffs isn’t that exciting except for the new kid he had no idea existed, and since Hermione’s now added him and Draco to the current Reasons to be Pissed List, he can’t very well ask her. 

He spends most of Divination thinking about how much simpler life would be if he could just be friends with whoever the hell he wanted to, and then he sees that Hufflepuff again and decides he really needs to ask _someone_ about them. Pansy’s really his best bet, but she’d kill him if he exposed them in public, which again, really fucking sucks because they have potions with the Slytherins too and he’s _dying_ to know how the hell Draco manages to make Snape look like a pacified cat every single lesson.

Dinner comes and goes much too quickly, which means he basically blinks and then he and Draco are standing in Myrtle's bathroom, an hour past curfew.

“Sneaking out already? It’s only the first day back….unless you have other motives for coming here alone…..just the two of you…”

Harry regrets this decision entirely, fully ready to beat his own head into a sink just so he can avoid Myrtle’s giggles.

“Good evening to you too,” He says instead, hoping he’ll be enough to distract her.

He’s not.

“You never come and visit….are you making it up now?” If ghosts could blush she’d be the color of Ron’s hair by now. “Going to put on a show for me, Harry?”

“Myrtle, is it?” 

Harry’s been thankful for Draco a lot at this point, but he’ll never be over the creepy smile the blonde gets right before destroying people, or in this case, ghosts.

Myrtle doesn’t know about the smile, though. She’s just happy to have a cute boy talking to her.

“Y-yes, and you are?”

Draco bows, honest to fucking bows. Holds out his hands like some sort of weird prince and as if that isn’t enough, Myrtle places her hand in his and giggles while he kisses it. Harry’s so fucking confused. What is this? What is he doing? Going around and kissing other people’s hands is just _weird_ and it’s not because he’s a little jealous or whatever, it’s just, ya know, unsanitary. 

Myrtle doesn’t agree.

Myrtle is fucking _delighted._

And Draco apparently has a fifth smile Harry’s never seen. There’s Diplomatic Smile, the one he usually gives people that aren’t his friends, Little Shit Smile, for when he’s being an asshole, Intimidation Smirk, that one always gives Harry chills, and Harry’s favorite; the Cute Smile, for when his guard is completely down and he’s just _happy._

This smile is somewhere in between creepy and cute, and he has no idea what to label it.

“Draco Malfoy, at your service. We’re terribly sorry to disturb such a fine young lady as yourself so late in the evening, but Harry and I have some business in the Chamber, something that might interfere with your safety and we’d never allow that to happen. Perhaps, once that business is settled, we could bring more friends to visit with? After all, a gorgeous girl like you shouldn’t be left to her lonesome. It’s not right by a gentleman’s standards.”

Myrtle buys every single line like Dudley at a bake sale. She literally melts into a puddle at Draco’s feet, swooning complete with heart eyes, looking like she’s seen some deity, and Harry’s one creepy comment away from snagging Slytherin robes and finding a different place altogether. 

“Of course,” she says in a dreamy voice, “I’d be honored to assist…”

She stays on the floor even after they’re climbing into the hole behind the sink.

“You didn’t put a spell on her, did you?”

“Of course I did,” Draco rolls his eyes and Harry decides that only nice people get warnings about possible skulls and shredded snake skin. “It’s called being _charming-”_

Draco screams, Harry laughs even as he’s being hit.

“You asshole! You could’ve warned me!”

“I thought your charm would prepare you.”

Harry does end up warning him about the grosser things the further they get into the pipes. Partly because he knows if Draco sees a giant snake _anything_ he’ll start hexing left and right, but mostly because he doesn’t actually want his friend, possible crush, to have a heart attack.

“It smells awful down here.”

They’re almost to the main room now, which is bad because he might have lied about how scared he is of seeing the Basilisk again. To be fair, the last time he was down here he almost died and lost his best friend’s sister, who’s also like his little sister, and he isn’t looking forward to reliving those memories in his nightmares tonight.

“Hey,” Draco bumps into his side, “You’ve gone all quiet on me. It’s the smell, isn’t it?”

Harry snorts, “Ya know I didn’t really notice the smell the first time around….”

“Who can blame you? You were on your way to save a life, I feel like that might outweigh the whole rotting corpse aroma for you Gryffindors, but I’d give anything for even a vomit smell right now.”

“I prefer lavender but to each his own I guess.”

Draco snorts, but it’s fond. “My mother loves lavender.”

“I feel like that clashes with your vomit preferences just a bit.”

“Still better than rotting corpse scent.”

They chuckle again, and his nerves are still all wound up, so he says, “Hey, do you think we could sell Rotting Corpse as like a candle?”

“Why in the fuck-”

“Look, all I’m saying is that if we could, I’m pretty sure Old Witty Riddy would buy the entire stock, which means he’d have no bribe money left, and he’d be distracted smelling them all day so we could probably take him by surprise.”

Draco’s trying so hard not to laugh. “I don’t take Riddle as a candle man.”

“You’re right, I’m betting he likes incense made of, I dunno, children.”

“That would explain why he keeps trying to get into Hogwarts.”

“This is a horrible topic.”

“You brought it up!”

They’re standing outside the door now, and he can’t get nervous with the image of Riddle sticking his nose in a candle like he’s seen mothers do in muggle shops. Draco takes his hand and gives it a light squeeze.

“There are three options behind that door, okay? One, the creature is alive and hostile, we kill it and move on because it _will_ kill us if we don’t. Two, it’s alive and friendly, which I doubt, but it’s a possibility. You’ll talk to it and try to come to an understanding. Three, it’s dead so we deal with the body and remember that it died trying to kill you and Girl Weasley.”

“She does have a name-”

“Harry, now is _so_ not the time.”

“I’m just saying ‘Ginny’ is shorter and a lot easier to remember than ‘Girl Weasley’.” 

Draco can glare all he wants to, he can’t hide the amusement clearly written in his eyes or the soft smile that really takes away from the whole ‘annoyed’ persona. “Are you ready or not?”

There’s no time like the present.

Harry nods, they each take out their wands, and then he looks to the snakes locking the door and whispers _“Open”._

_“Who goes there?”_

Oh shit. Harry closes his eyes and makes Draco do the same, their wands stay up, Draco doesn’t say a word.

_“My name is unimportant.”_

_“I recognize your smell….you were with Him on that night…”_

_“I don’t know what you’re-”_

_“Do not lie, boy! You reek of that bastard! How dare you waltz into my home and bring back memories of my torture! Leave this place! Let me die in peace!”_

“Harry?” Draco sounds a little panicked, even to his own ears, “Harry, what’s going on? I don’t speak but those hisses don’t sound particularly happy. More like Poly after Lockheart hurt her.”

He has no fucking clue who Poly is, but he’ll worry about it later. Right now he’s going to do something insanely stupid.

_“You’re dying?”_

They can feel more than hear the giant sigh released, and it’s then that Harry remembers Fawkes clawing out the eyes, so he opens his and draws in a sharp gasp.

The Basilisk he remembers was terrifying. Like he definitely almost shit his pants several times during their first meeting, but now the creature lies half in murky water, head barely hanging onto dingy marble floors. It looks pitiful and Harry knows, he _knows_ this is stupid, but he’s hasn’t been meeting his yearly quota, and Hermione’s already pissed at him so there’s really nothing stopping him from adding to his Stupid Life Choices. 

_“I’ve been dying for some time now. Since my eyes were taken from me and my head impaled. I merely wait for Death to grace me with tender arms so I may no longer feel pain this body ties me to.”_

Well shit, he’s definitely getting involved now.

_“Do you wish to die?”_

The Basilisk snorts, Harry didn’t know snakes could do that. _“No soul wishes to die, boy. I have been alive for many years, I have seen many things, at first I wished to join my first friend in the next realm, and yet I am not satisfied enough to say I would be happy to meet Death. However, not everyone gets the option to refuse should she come knocking. I had any chance of survival ripped from me the second that evil Speaker came into this cursed school.”_

_“You talk of Riddle?”_

_“Do not mention that name to me!”_ The hiss is so loud and angry Draco opens his eyes on instinct, making an unnecessary whimper that will definitely be keeping him up tonight.

_“That wretched man used me twice! I fell for his traps twice! Have you any idea who I am? What I have contributed to? I was great once! A beloved figure, held in high standards, loved and adored, I had friends who called me by my name with pride! And now, because of that man, I have been disgraced. ME! I have suffered for his actions-”_

_“That man killed my parents in front of my crib.”_ As far as smart moves go, cutting off an ancient being probably isn’t one, but what’s done is done and the sullen snake head turns to him, so he continues. _“He took them from me before I could talk. He tried to take me too, but failed. Because of Him I lost something I can never get back. The boy next to me? His father was cursed by That Man into abusing him. That Man almost forced a father to kill his own child. My first year at this school I was eleven years old and had to murder a teacher because of Him, only to turn around and destroy Him again when He used you the year after. So many people have lost so much more than their pride, and I’m sorry you’ve suffered, but I have to remind you that it was_ you _who petrified children and nearly killed more of my family that year.”_

_“You think I would leave my shelter willingly? No, you fool, this place has been my home since my last friend. A gift I cherish until my last breath. That man, he came to me with talk of allies and war, to which I never wanted a part in. When I told him no….”_

_“He Imperoed you, didn’t he?”_

Draco’s hand is squeezing his to point that it’s painful, so he squeezes back and really hopes it gets the message across.

_“Yes.”_

Fuck. What the hell is he supposed to say to that? _“I’m sorry. No one should have to suffer those curses.”_

_“And yet an Avada Kedavra would have been kinder than to claw out my eyes and leave me for dead.”_

Harry winces, because yeah, the snake has a fucking point. _“I can heal you. Or, my friend here can heal you. Probably. We can find a way to if nothing else. But in order to do that, I need you to swear not to hurt us.”_

_“Why would you heal me? Why should I trust you? For all I know you’re just like that Riddle boy.”_

Now that’s an insult if he’s ever heard one. _“My name is Harry Potter. I intend to one day stop Tom Riddle and all this senseless fighting.”_

_“How can you claim it senseless?”_

_“Because anything that keeps people from being friends is stupid, war included. There’s no reason for children to be forced into a war, and there’s no reason why one man should get to decide who lives and who dies. All life is precious, even if he refuses to see it.”_

_“If all life is precious, what will you do if you have to end His? You’ve already killed someone once, what’s stopping you from becoming just like Him?”_

_“Love.”_ Harry replies without missing a beat. _“Tom Riddle has never known love, I don’t think. Not if what I know about him is true. And I may not have had parents, but I have people who love me and people I’m not willing to lose even if it kills me. I have friends I will protect until my dying breath, and that is what sets me apart from Him.”_

The snake takes a deep breath, Draco’s shaking next to him and is definitely going to kill him when he finds out that Harry basically just signed them up to heal a Deadly Dangerous Snake that they may or may not be able to heal. Maybe Draco and Hermione can team up and make a detailed book of all the things he does that pisses them off. It’d be a bestseller in _The Daily Prophet_ , he’s sure.

_“You said your name is Harry Potter, of the Potter line, correct?”_

Uh, he doesn’t know of any other Potter lines, _“Yes.”_

_“My name is Uγεία, you may call me Geia. Should you heal me, I will not harm you and yours.”_

Great. Now he just has to explain to his friends how they’re going to be healing a giant snake that tried to kill them. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco’s going to throttle him before Hermione gets the chance. 

“Are you kidding me? This is supposed to be a relaxing year, Harry! Healing her wasn’t a part of our options!”

“But you said we could work something out if she was nice-”

“When I said that I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to sign us up for a friendly clash with venomous teeth! We could die doing this, and-”

“If you won’t help me heal her then I’ll do it myself.”

Over his dead body will he let Harry try that. There’s so many things that could go so, _so,_ horribly wrong. Yes, he’s been healing himself since he was eleven because he wasn’t exactly keen on letting people know about his abuse, but no one’s ever tried to heal a snake with magic. Not to his knowledge, of course, except for that one time with Polly and the Dinner Party, but he still didn't know how she was healed. However, if it’s the only thing that will keep Harry from running off and getting himself into trouble this early in the year he’ll fucking try it. Even if it means strong-arming Hermione into putting her annoyance aside, which he’s sure she’ll do if it keeps her friends from dying. “Why do you care so much? This creature-”

“Geia. She said to call her Geia.”

Merlin, give him strength. Draco counts to ten, pointedly ignoring the piles of animal skulls, that are very much real, so he doesn’t start screaming. “Fine, then. The last time you saw _Geia_ she was trying to _kill_ you, and Ginny! You can’t lie to me! I watched you in Foe Glass, you would’ve died if Fawkes hadn’t healed you! She’s not safe.”

“She was under the Imperius Curse! No one is safe under an Unforgivable, you of all people should know that!”

Draco flinches back without meaning to. Of course he knows that, he’d been under two of them, he’d seen what mind control curses can do to people, his father is still recovering and Draco seriously doubts that he’ll ever get over it. The first time he hurt his Torture Pixie was when he was under Impero, and the only reason he didn’t fight harder was because of the Crucius Hour he endured beforehand.

Harry reaches out to touch him, Draco moves away and the look Harry gives him makes something squeeze tight in his chest. The outstretched arm drops. 

“I’m sorry, that was too far. I didn’t mean to-”

“Why do you care about her so much? She’s dying anyways, right? Why not just kill her and put her out of her misery?”

Harry mumbles something. He’s looking at the entrance to the bathroom, they’re so close Draco can taste air that doesn’t make him want to throw up, he can hear Myrtle sighing like a love-struck first year, but they can’t leave this conversation unfinished.

“What?”

Green eyes are pleading with him to just drop it, which he isn’t going to do, and then something mildly alarming happens. Harry’s eyes clear and he sighs. “Can we talk about this somewhere that doesn’t make me want to hyperventilate?”

He’s too shocked at the change in tactics to say ‘no’, so he ends up sneaking past the ghost that everyone avoids. Draco doesn’t get it, she’s really quite easy to handle, all you have to do is give her a smile and treat her like she isn’t worthless. Granted it was a shot in the dark, but he remembers Pansy talking about how lonely Myrtle is, and well. It doesn’t take much to put two and two together. 

Harry leads them out of the bathroom and up a few staircases. How he knows his way around the dark, Draco doesn’t want to know, but he has a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with that damned map from last year. Where they’re going is a bit of a mystery until he’s looking at the door to the Astronomy tower. Classes for the sixth years will be starting at three, and it’s only one so they have time. 

“That was a long walk for an explanation”

“Well,” Harry grins at him, “It certainly smells better up here.”

Draco sighs, “Harry, you can’t distract me, we need to talk about this.”

“I know, I know. I’m not trying to distract you, I just...I didn’t want to talk about this down there. Not yet.”

They take seats by the ledge, the night is a little cloudy from the leftover storm, but the moon still shines brightly. Draco doesn’t say anything, simply stares at Harry until he caves. It’s a nice view.

“It’s just,” Fuck he’s really weak for Harry’s eyes tonight, maybe he didn’t get enough sleep. “Think about it, Draco. She’s been in that room since the founders, right? And after Salazar left, she was alone until Riddle. She hasn’t had a friend in so long, she’s been forced to stay in one area and she’s suffering.”

“And why does this-”

“Because she’s like me.”

Wait, what? Harry’s cheeks are slightly flushed, eyes wide behind his glasses, and the worst part is either the water collecting in those green orbs or the shaking of his hands as he explains.

“I get it, okay? I get what she’s going through. For the first ten years of my life I was forced to live in a small cramped space, I was bullied and starved and hurt by the only people I had the chance to interact with. She had friends, and they were taken from her just like my parents, Sirius, and Remus were taken from me. Riddle did the same thing to her that my aunt and uncle did to me. And even though she thought he was her friend, all he did was force her into a world full of death and misery against her will, just like me! She doesn’t deserve to be hated and- and fucking _murdered_ for something that was against her will. I just...I can’t leave her. It’s not fair for me to be saved and not at least try to help her.”

Fucking Gryffindors and their damned morals. Fucking Harry and his need to save the world. Fucking green eyes that he’s never been able to say ‘no’ to. They’re the whole reason he got into this mess, well, that and his own need to save the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! to give a better posting schedule, i'm going to be posting on Sundays and Wednesdays from now on, hopefully. this lets me write longer chapters too, so that's good. anyways, hope you're all safe and doing well and enjoyed Geia because she's Very Important to the plot, also be excited for wolfstar next chapter :)


	9. The Gang Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Cheers to changing times, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally this is mostly fluff and a bad attempt at humor,  
> but also WARNING for the bit of cannon tragic Harry backstory. It's not really a main focus, more mentioned briefly but still just in case, ya know?

Things could not be more awkward. 

Well, they could, probably. Like if Voldemort himself was sitting on his new couch, it would be at least weirder, but it doesn’t change his current situation, does it?

“Play nice.” Narcissa hisses, grabbing two glasses from the kitchen counter. “If it weren’t for him Harry and Draco would be dead right now.”

Sirius grabs the remaining two and tries to comply, though he does nearly burst into tears of laughter when they walk into the drawing room.

They fixed it up pretty nicely with Narcissa’s help, he hates to admit it but the Malfoy connections can’t be beat. 

Kreacher even helped out with this renovation, so instead of the dingy dark room that was once littered with cigar smoke and disgusting velvet chairs, it’s now actually hospitable. Moth eaten, slightly moldy curtains were the first to go, replaced with cream ones that fit well with the walls that he secretly doesn’t hate. The two day argument he and Remus had gotten into over paint colors should be ridiculous, but he stands by the opinion that it’s perfectly acceptable to have a red room on the first floor. Granted, the red he wanted wasn’t the same color as the maroon armchairs he refused to budge on, so at least he has those.

Throw in a plush grey carpet, because he learned the hard way in his teens that white stains far too easily, and a few light wooden side tables to match his coffee table that he also demanded, and the room was almost complete. One final piece was the couch Narcissa had imported from Italy. His pride and joy, he wouldn’t let Remus have coffee by it the first week. A white camel-back three seater, maroon roses etched into the light wooden feet, insanely comfortable with big fluffy pillows on either side. It’s fucking perfect, and he’d preferred to keep it stainless and impeccable until the day he dies.

Unfortunately Narcissa does not share his sentiment because she hands a glass of red wine to the stain on his couch and he can’t decide which is worse.

The danger of wine or Lucius Malfoy.

Remus looks at him with one eyebrow raised, he tries not to freak out. But fuck if he doesn’t keep a very close eye on Lucius’s hand.

“So,” the bastard says after an uncomfortably long silence, “It’s good to see you not behind bars.”

Oh fuck being nice. “You seem to have forgotten who put me in them.”

Narcissa sends them both a glare, Remus takes a step closer.

“I didn’t put you there.”

“Then who did?”

“Albus Dumbledore, for starters.” 

Sirius freezes on the spot, Narcissa slaps her husband’s shoulder, Remus, after a moment where Sirius seriously worries for his rug, starts laughing. “I never thought I’d see the day where I agreed with Lucius Malfoy.”

“Well,” the man in question raises his glass, “Cheers to changing times, I guess.”

James is surely rolling in his grave, he can  _ feel  _ the ghost of Lily Potter glaring at him, but Narcissa is here and real and much more scary so Sirius meets the toast. “Cheers.”

The week after the Quidditch World Cup had been scary to say the least. Narcissa had been visiting them every other day and then disappeared without a letter for a full week before showing up at midnight and making her way straight to the wine cellar. Sirius still has nightmares of Kreacher standing over him and telling him that someone is in the house,  _ and  _ of his cousin stumbling drunk into his room with Remus naked in bed and telling them how much she hates Quidditch. 

A few hours of calming her down later and Remus was ripping apart a howler that would’ve screamed at Harry until his ears fell off. She ended up staying the night in the room Sirius was planning on making hers anyways, and in the morning Kreacher made pancakes and Narcissa told them her grand plan. 

When they first agreed to helping her find allies, there was the general understanding that Lucius was not to be trusted, after all he tortured Draco, tried to kill students in Hogwarts, definitely murdered a few of his and Remus’s friends over the years, bullied them all at school, and, as if the list isn’t long enough already, tried to aid in the murder of Harry. So, yeah, with the evidence building against him, everyone generally agreed that trusting him wasn’t the smartest move, even with the whole mind control thing.

But then the asshole had saved not only Draco and Harry, but the Weasley kids and Hermione. A muggle-born, brilliant, astounding Hermione. Had even gotten hurt in the process and only complained about how stupid Draco was being to take on a house elf, Sirius still won’t admit that he kinda agrees. 

Things change once a person loves something more than they hate something else. 

So, though he’s still not sure how, Narcissa had gotten them on board with testing her husband. He couldn’t meet, or even know about the few purebloods they’ve gathered, much less what his wife is actually planning. All she told Lucius was that Sirius is free, not a homicidal murder, and that she was tired of pretending to hate the only family she has left from her mother and father. Some bullshit about blood needing to stick together, like they ever hated each other in the first place.

They had to send Draco to school first, he’d throw a fit if he knew this was happening. Sirius doesn’t even want to think about what Harry would do if he knew, and oh fuck he really needs to mention Harry’s scar hurting and that the house cleaning is going well. Instead of a howler, he had sent only a partly furious letter demanding he stay safe and making him promise to write. Sooner, rather than later, he’ll have to find a way to firecall him and spill everything.

Keeping secrets has never helped anyone, and he can only hope Harry’s not in deep shit like he is. 

Though, with any luck, he’ll have more fun dining with Lucius Malfoy than Harry will have doing homework.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Master Draco! Mister Blaise!”

Draco groans, rolling over and hitting something soft that immediately hisses at him. He snatches his hand away before LuLu can claw him half to death, turning back into the dark coolness.

“Master Draco.”

Draco’s eyes snap open to see Winky, arms crossed, annoyed.

“Master Draco and Mister Blaise will be late for class!”

Oh shit.

He rolls out of bed and onto his feet, stepping around Winky and throwing open his closet.

“Can you grab me-”

“Breakfast?” Winky asks, “Biscuits with lemon curds and apples for the both of yous, sir.”

Draco rolls his eyes, tossing an apple at Blaise’s sleeping form. He jolts wide away, looking around only to groan and flop back on bed. Having one pant leg on will not stop Draco from crossing his arms and glaring.

“Winky, what time is it?”

“Eight forty-two, sir.”

Blaise blots up again. “Did she say  _ eight forty-two?!  _ It takes ten minutes to make it to McGonagall’s class!”

“Winky has been trying to wake the sirs for the past hour! If sirs had listened-” She cuts herself off, eyes going wide and Draco has to pause getting ready all over again so she can’t beat her head on the ground.

“Winky, please!” He still has to put a shirt on-fuck he won’t have time to wash his face, but that’s what free periods are for. “I’d prefer you to speak your mind instead of being formal all the time. My old elf friend, Dobby, was sarcastic as hell and I liked him more for it. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, we might as well enjoy each other’s company.”

Draco stands, reaching for his deodorant, and it’s then that he realizes Winky looks like she has something to say.

“What is it?” He asks, letting Blaise turn him.

There’s a moment of panic when he sees his friend’s wand pointed at him, but Blaise just mutters some spell he’s never heard of and his face feels so much fresher. He’s gonna wiggle that one out of the boy if it kills him.

“Is there any way for Winky to meet Dobby? I has already been talking to the Malfoy Manor Elves to learn Master Draco’s favorites, but I wishes to be the best elf, and if Dobby can be helping….”

Draco wants to hug her so fucking bad it actually roots him to the spot, but then Blaise yells “Hurry up!” from his side of the room.

Barely suppressing a ‘fuck you’ he instead focuses on buttoning his shirt, “Dobby?”

Works like a charm, if only buttons were as easy. On the plus side, the loud ‘crack’ that carries Dobby into the room startles Blaise enough to almost drop his tie.

“Master Draco! Have you been well since summer? House elves been talking about a new-”

He’s not sure which of their faces are funnier. Dobby with wide eyes and a hand covering his mouth or Winky’s badly hidden irritation. 

“Winky this is Dobby,” Draco says, looking around for his outer robes because DADA is always freezing the first week and he won’t have time to come back between class, “Dobby this is Winky, my personal house elf. Can you answer any questions she may have and-”

Dobby’s squeal gets a glare from Blaise but he’s too busy throwing his arms around Winky to notice and Draco should be tying his shoes, he really doesn’t have time for this, but Winky mouthing ‘help’ to him and the sight of Dobby hanging off her is too funny not to stare at. 

“You been protecting Master Draco! Keepin’ him safe and makin’ sure he returns to Hogwarts! It’s an honor to meet you! Yous and I is gonna be the best of friends!”

Winky looks positively disgusted, but she did quite literally ask for this. 

“House elves do not be having friends, Mister Dobby.”

Dobby rolls his eyes, Draco really misses his quirks sometimes. “Misses Winky, everybody be having friends.”

Blaise spritzes cologne on both of them, moisturizes, and then grabs their bags, “Yeah, but Draco is going to lose his if he doesn’t hurry up!”

“Oh fuck you.” A flick of his wand and his shoes are tied, “Take care of her, Dobby!”

Between the look on Winky’s face, Pansy’s stressing about her Yule Ball attire, and Hermione’s Wrath he’ll have to face on Thursday, there’s no way he’ll make it out of this year alive. 

By some small mercy they do make it to Transfiguration on time, sliding into the back row by Pansy exactly one minute before the bell rings. Crabbe and Goyle glance at them, Draco tries not to let it hurt. They’re sitting closer to the Huffles than any right minded Slytherin would and Draco hates every fucking second of it. 

“Where were the two of you this morning?”

“Oh, you know.”

Blaise rolls his eyes, leaning over him, “We overslept.”

Something tells him that she only believes them because Blaise isn’t speaking Latin.

“Whatever, have you heard about the new Hufflepuff?”

“There’s a new Hufflepuff?”

Pansy rubs at her temples, “Merlin, it’s like you don’t have eyes sometimes.  _ Yes,  _ there’s a new Hufflepuff. Our little pottery friend has even noticed them. No one knows much about them, I think it’s rather interesting, don’t you?”

More like alarming, but he can’t reply when Mcgonagall is glaring at them for talking. 

They’re forced to break into partners, Draco claims Pansy, Blaise gets stuck with Millie but surprisingly they work well together. Today they’re supposed to be turning sticks into fabric, but Draco suspects Pansy is just using the class to test colors for her dress.

He wouldn’t be wrong.

Though the look on McGonagall's face when Pansy hands in five different fabrics is worth every second he had to listen to her musing and asking his opinion.

“It’s just that if I wear black lace I’ll miss the chance to wear forest green satin, or silk! You know how good I look in silk.”

Blaise does a bad job of hiding amusement, “Pansy, dearest, do you know who our new DADA Professor is?”

Not even that gets her out of her ideas, but now Draco is curious and that’s never good for anyone. 

“I heard it’s Mad-Eye Moody.” He whispers, which finally gets Pansy’s attention.

“Mad-Eye Moody?!” She would’ve dropped her bag if Millie hadn’t glared at her. “Like that old cranky Auror that used to go around killing Death Eaters? The one your father fought? The one that nearly killed Vicent’s dad?”

“That’s the one,” Draco replies dryly. He’s not looking forward to this year’s DADA. Honestly, Lockheart would be better than an asshole with prejudice. If he’s lucky it’ll just be a few snide comments and bullying to deal with.

Draco’s never fucking lucky.

Their class has seen a lot in this room. In first year Quirell had plants and warm rugs, admittedly comfortable chairs, candles that smelled great, so much to cover up the fact that he was hiding Riddle in the back of his head that he made the classroom seem  _ comfortable.  _ In second year, Lockheart had the room filled with orange and golds, Dragon bones, pictures of himself on every available wall and Draco had thought it was the worst thing he’d ever seen. In third year, Remus made it look like an actual learning classroom, the chairs were cosy, the lights dimmed down a bit, a few candles and paintings that would stick their tongues out if you stared too long.

For the longest time, he thought Snape’s classroom was on record of being the scariest.

He was very, very wrong.

The DADA room has somehow become all black. Black ceilings, black desks, black chairs, black floors. It looks as though someone took the Dark Arts and gave free rein on decor, it’s not cute.

Thankfully the first day passes with a few glares and a weird amount of staring on the Professor’s part. It should be the other way around, afterall Draco’s not the one with a distracting magical eye, there’s really nothing special except his hair that’s managed to grow a little past his chin.

Everything is honestly going much better than he expected it to, the only weird part is not having to leave dinner early for Quidditch practice, but if he reads the look in Flint’s eyes right that won’t be lasting long. 

If he’s lucky the worst thing that will happen this year is the Geia issue.

Not that he’ll be holding his breath on that one. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Mind your tongue when you speak to me, boy!”

“Do you expect me to apologize?”

His bag is full of homework for Ancient Studies and Ancient Runes that he should go ahead and do, but he has lunch and a free period before Arithmancy, and tea with Severus is so much more important. Or it had been more important before he opened the door to the Potion’s room and heard shouting. Draco slips his wand into his hand, just in case Snape needs help, and casts a quiet silencing charm so he can sneak closer and get a glimpse into his god father’s office.

At first all he sees is Severus fuming and so angry the potion bottle in his hand looks like it might crack.

And then Draco sees the Hufflepuff Pansy has been going on about. 

He’s tall as hell, like maybe Cedric Diggory tall, but other than that he seems pretty normal. Short brown hair, glasses, correct robes and everything. Maybe a sixth or seventh year, if the NEWT application hanging out of his bag is anything to go by.

“I should expect so,” Snape doesn’t budge a fucking inch, he’s glaring. Like his real ‘I don’t like you’ glare that’s usually reserved for him when he’s done something stupid.

“Then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought-“

“Willie?” 

Oh fuck. 

Draco dives under Snape’s desk, barely making it in time to hide before Cedric is waltzing into the room, making a beeline for the office door and knocking. “Professor Snape, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt but Professor Sprout requested to see William in her office before lunch is over.”

Snape doesn’t even glare at him, which means the conversation has either rattled him or Cedric is just that charming. 

“Mr. Livia was just leaving.”

Draco ducks down under the desk right as the two boys leave, but not before he catches the color of William’s eyes. They’re turquoise, bright, slap you in the face turquoise, and he’s seen a lot of abnormal things in his life, but eyes that vibrant usually mean trouble. Especially when he can feel them watching his hiding spot even after the Potions’s room door closes.

He’s on his feet in a flash, storming into Snape’s office and only a little happy to find his professor surprised at his quick appearance.

“You wanna tell me what the hell that was about?”

“Good Afternoon to you too, Draco. It’s nice to see you as well. Yes, I am doing good, thank you so very much for asking. Please, my kind and ever gracious, nosey godson, have a seat.”

Draco’s already plopped into the chair he considers his, “As much as I love you and respect that there are some things you don’t have to tell me, I wish you would let me know when crazy students are in the school so I don’t have to sneak around your classroom with my wand out and worry about a maniac  _ hexing _ you.”

“The only maniacs here are you and your group of friends, besides the students have never been sane in my opinion.” His words are harsh, but the teapot is already out so he can’t be that angry. 

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“It’s a question you have no right to ask.”

Um, what the fuck?

Draco accepts the cup of tea being handed to him and sets it down on his table. Then he takes a long look at the man in front of him.

Severus Snape has been with him since before the beginning of his life. He made potions for Lucius back in school, when his grandfather was beating him. Narcissa forced him to help pick out baby clothes, he was the one who helped protect her-and Draco-from Riddle. He made potions for Narcissa during her pregnancy, one of Draco’s first memories is Severus rolling his eyes at his bad piano playing while his parents laughed in the background. He was the one who got Draco to go to Dumbledore that first year, the one that calmed him down and has been on his side since forever.

Never in their entire time of knowing each other had Severus lied to him, withheld information, given him any reason for mistrust. So usually, when his godfather doesn’t want to talk about something, they just don’t talk about it. 

And Snape hunching over his papers is a clear ‘drop it’ sign.

Of course, none of that means anything when Draco knows exactly how to get him to cave.

“Do you know any potions to heal a deadly snake?”

Severus drops his papers, “Excuse me?”

“I’m just curious is all, if you have a book with possible step by step instructions that could magically heal a giant deadly snake that’d be great.” It’s bait, but only Draco knows it.

“What in Merlin’s name would you need it for?”

Draco doesn’t even bother hiding the sly grin, Severus frowns on instinct. 

“I’ll tell you if you tell me the truth about William.”

“Unfortunately there is nothing to tell, but now I know you’re up to something stupid, which means it’s very likely that Harry Potter is up to something so you either tell me or I go to Dumbledore.”

Draco’s mouth hangs open, Severus smirks.

“ _ Never  _ try to outwit the master.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco spends the entirety of Thursday anxious to the point that even Winky is giving him looks. He sleeps through most of Care of Magical Creatures, which gets him covered in some goop from whatever weird animal Hagrid’s forcing them to work with. It’s not his fault he had Astronomy at three in the morning and couldn’t go back to sleep. It’s Harry’s fault. 

The lack of Calming Draughts in his life probably adds to it, and since everyone sleeps through History of Magic anyways, he’s really not that annoyed. Only enough to stab at his salad like it was the cause for his latest bout of nervousness.

“Seriously, what has gotten into you?” Pansy hisses.

Her and Blasie have been on him non stop since breakfast when he got a letter from his mother that he refused to read. Not that he didn’t want to interact with her, he misses Narcissa every day, thank you, he just would prefer not to hear bad news until  _ after  _ Hermione rips him and Harry to pieces.

Harry for this insane idea and Draco for agreeing to it.

If the letter is good news maybe he can guilt Pansy into reading it as he’s being hexed to death.

“You’ll find out tonight.”

Blaise snorts, “Way to sound like a cranky old cryptic.”

They can joke now, but he knows without a doubt that they’ll finish him off if Hermione doesn’t. Hopefully Ron can step in and show them the Logical Side of Harry’s plan. Ron’s the calmest of them all, surprisingly, and he got them to agree to the Chamber in the first place, so as long as they can keep Ron on their side it’ll be three against three and no one will die.

Or Ron will be just as furious and there is no hope.

Hope, or lack thereof in his case, doesn’t keep the day from flying by, and before he knows it the clock is striking midnight. Blaise and LuLu follow him out of the room, Millie’s sitting on the couch but she doesn’t do much besides raise an eyebrow and tell them not to get caught.

Harry found a room to use for tonight after their little talk on Monday, hidden on the second floor behind not one, but two abandoned classrooms. Probably an old professor’s suit. They get there and open the door just for Pansy to scream at him.

“You fucker! I was  _ so close! So fucking close  _ to finishing these wards! I’ve been working on these since  _ dinner!” _

Hermione rolls her eyes and drags them both inside before they can say something stupid.

Ron and Harry are busy trying to clean chairs and pillows, or more likely Pansy and Hermione told them to stay out of their way until the wards were done. Blaise rolls his eyes, LuLu sneezes. Pansy and Hermione throw themselves back into the wards, speaking in hushed tones about where they can pick up from.

“What are you two doing? Aren’t you wizards? Do you not have your wands?”

Ron shrugs in his general direction. “Cleaning spells never get all the dust out.”

Draco huffs, picks up LuLu, and then calls out “Winky!”

She appears with a crack and Draco cannot fathom why Hermione is already giving him a death glare, they haven’t even told her about Geia yet. Even Ron and Harry are staring at him like he’s done something funny, but considering that Blaise doesn’t react and Pans is still elbows deep in wards, he assumes it might just be a Gryffindor thing. 

“Yes?” 

Dobby had stolen his elf for an entire day and turned her into a better version of him. Her quality of work couldn’t be beat, and now that she’s stopped being terrified of him and gotten comfortable she’s probably his new favorite.

She’s surprisingly funny when she’s not scared. 

Before he can say anything Hermione is taking a deep breath, which is weird because once again, she doesn’t even know the worst part yet.

“Master Draco!” Winky shakes her head, “This room is being awful! Why did you not call me sooner? Sits! Sits! All of yous! Sits!”

Winky snaps her fingers and six chairs appear, they’re all thrown into soft cushions except for Pansy who refuses to acknowledge anything but the wards. 

“What is she-”

“Don’t look!” Blaise and Draco yell at the same time so their idiot friends won’t vomit.

“Why not?!” Hermione demands, turning and staring for three seconds before covering her mouth.

Blaise grimaces. “House elf Super Speed, you look too long and it’ll throw off your equilibrium.”

“What?”

“Can we get that in English, please?”

“Elves go super fast, human brain can’t keep up, makes us stop functioning and get sick, like Hermione is about to be- Winky! Can you grab a-”

The bucket is underneath her withering form before he can finish and he thanks Mr. Crouch for being an idiot and throwing such a good elf away.

He hears more than he sees the cleaning, forcing Harry into a staring competition. Draco practically begs him to bring it up, but Harry’s stubborn and shaking his head, it’s all very annoying.

On the plus side, Winky really knows what she’s doing. The dust and grime is replaced with polished wooden floors and stone walls that have little symbols carved into them, the only exception is the wall by Pansy that looks like a weird chalkboard. Bedside tables become coffee tables, the bed disappears into a few large desks, a rug he originally thought was just discoloration turns out to be a mix of green and red- though he’s not sure if it was originally that way or just Winky joking. A fire springs to light in a brick fireplace he hadn’t even noticed, blankets in baskets appear seemingly from nowhere even though they look uncomfortably to the extras from Malfoy Manor, then more chairs are added, piles of pillows, and the bookshelves tucked in the corners seem to be filled once more. 

Pansy turns around the exact second Winky finishes with a grin. 

“Oh wow. You guys did a great jo- nope. Hi, Winky.”

“Hello Miss Pansy! Would anyone like some tea?”

Draco has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at the wide eyed confusion written on Hermione’s face.

“I think we’re all good. Sorry to get you so late at night.”

His elf shrugs, then smiles her first genuine smile and bows, disappearing with a crack that finally gets Hermione to close her mouth and give him a hard look. 

“You are going to sit down and explain to me every single bit of house elves, I’m talking unethical, true purpose, functionality, and any issues because I swear to Godric if you’re keeping a slave I might have to murder you. I mean it, Draco, I wanna know everything. I’m adding it to our agenda.”

“What’s a slave?” Blaise asks. 

“We have an agenda?” Seems like a better question for Draco’s purposes. 

Hermione huffs. “Of  _ course  _ we have an agenda! I need answers, people!”

Pansy gives him a look that clearly means he could’ve said anything else and it would’ve been better, but Hermione is already standing up and moving to the chalkboard. 

A tap of her wand later and a list appears.

“We haven’t had a proper talk since summer, so that will be our first object of discussion. More specifically, your father, I need the full explanation because, last time I checked, evil people don’t save children stranded in chaos.”

_ Lucius Malfoy  _ appears on the board.

“After that, I need to have a talk with three of you about the Triwizard Tournament. Don’t you dare argue with me Harry James Potter! It’s for your own good!”

_ Three idiots  _ is written, Draco idly wonders if he’s included. His track record says yes, but his faith in Hermione says no.

“Then the Yule Ball, but that’s more for me and Pans because I have nothing to wear-”

“It’s your own fault! Our school supplies said to bring formal wear!”

Hermione flushes, “I didn’t think it meant a  _ dress!  _ I thought it was some sort of Honors Society!”

“What’s an honors society-”

“Not now Blaise!” The girls shout at the same time, Pansy’s already geering up to launch into a full fledged rant.

Harry raises his hand. “Um. Before you guys do that, Draco and I have something to add to the list.”

Oh hell no. “Don’t you include me in this! Just because I agreed doesn’t make me the mastermind!”

“You said it was a good idea!”

“I said it’s a  _ terrible  _ idea! You’re just going to do it anyways, so, technically, you blackmailed me into it!”

“How on Earth did  _ I-” _

Hermione stomps her foot, “What are you two on about?! I swear to Godric if you’ve gotten yourself involved in some crazy scheme within the  _ first week-” _

“I didn’t! I just made a friend!”

Not how Draco would have worded it, but seeing how Ron is already getting comfortable for the story, maybe his Gryffindorks can already see where this is going.

“What do you mean?” Pansy asks slowly.

Harry’s really got to work on not looking guilty. It’s a dead giveaway that his story isn’t going to do anything but piss everyone off.

“On Monday...you know how we had to go and see if the snake was dead?”

Hermione  _ definitely  _ knows where this is going. “Harry.”

“Well, um, surprise!” Harry shrinks into himself, “She’s not dead!”

The room goes quiet.

“She’s actually pretty chill….her name is Geia…”

Draco’s pretty sure everyone is frozen. He can’t wait to see how they react to the next part.

“And I, uh, ya know. Since she’s friendly and cool in that weird ancient way, um, I kinda signed us up to heal her?”

That jolts some air into them. “You  _ what?!” _

“She’s really not that bad-”

“She tried to  _ eat my sister!” _

“Yeah, about that-”

”Have you lost your mind?!”

Blaise is the only one staring straight at him as the others attack Harry. He’d join in, but he’s already agreed to help so there’s no point in complaining if others are doing a good job of it.

“Wait.” Blaise says. 

Draco’s stomach drops with the volume of the room.

“You said Draco agreed to this?”

Fucking hell.

Draco sits up a little straighter, but having to look a murderous Hermione in the eye is a lot scarier than he thought it would be.

“He hasn’t told you the full story….and since he’s clearly not good at it, I guess I will.”

Harry sends him a grateful smile, he ignores it.

“We went down into the Chamber, and there’s this giant snake maybe a few years away from dying. Harry talked to her for a bit, she didn’t eat us, and during their conversation we figured out a few things. One, Geia was being controlled by Riddle during second year. Given what we know about how powerful mind curses can be, I assure you she probably couldn’t stop it even if she wanted to. Two, we have physical proof that she’s not dangerous, as she would’ve eaten us the second we walked in if she had been. And lastly, well, it has all the factors to go insanely wrong, but if it goes right we’ll have another ally on our side if the war starts. Even if it doesn’t, having a friend that powerful might provide some sort of protection.”

Pansy slumps back in her chair. “This might be the stupidest thing we’ve ever done.”

“Because there’s no guarantee we’ll be doing it” Ron glares. “What, and I cannot stress this enough, the fuck, Harry? Just because she didn’t eat you doesn’t mean she’s a good little snake! Why the hell should we care about her?”

“Because she’s like me.” Harry says in that same small voice from the Astronomy tower. Draco reaches out until their feet are touching, knocking against his ankle makes him smile and surely that might be enough to help. “Think about it, Ron. Who else do you know that has been trapped somewhere for fourteen years, abused, starved, and then thrown into a world full of war and death against their will?”

Hermione’s pulling him in for a hug before he can finish, Ron suddenly looks the part of a stressed out father. Pansy and Blaise seem horrified. Draco clenches his fist, wondering once again how difficult it would be to kill two muggles and make it look like a freak accident. 

“You?” Pansy whispers.

Harry nods, “My muggle relatives aren’t that happy about my existence.”

“And they’re shit for it.” Draco replies so fiercely Blaise raises an eyebrow at him.

No one else seems to notice, too focused on Harry to care. 

“We’ll do it.” Ron says. “Not for her, but for you. Because if we heal her and she tries to eat us I will bash her skull in myself.”

Hermione frowns and for a second Draco worries she might not agree with Ron’s brilliant plan. 

“If it makes anything better, I’ve already gotten Severus on board to help.”

Harry is the  _ last  _ person in the room who gets to glare at him.

“You told Snape?! Why?”

“He’s my godfather? It’s not like he’s going to tell anyone, and I didn’t say  _ which  _ snake we’re healing, just that it’s old and ancient and your friend.”

Hermione is definitely suffering from a Potterache right now, he can see the build up in her left temple. Pansy’s already rubbing her head, Blasie will probably join her soon.

“What? I thought there might be a potion to help and he’s looking into it for us.”

Ron leans over to pat his shoulder, “It’s okay mate, you can tell the truth. No one will judge you if you went to complain about Harry.”

“Hey!”

“Draco’s right, Harry.” Hermione interjects before a rant can commence. “If we’re going to do this, we might need some extra help. Plus, now we already have a lead but I don’t know if it’ll be enough….” She bites her lower lip and glances and Pansy.

“You want to add people to our circle?” Pansy doesn’t even sound offended, like her and Hermione had already had this conversation. Which, they probably had, but that doesn’t mean Draco has to like it. 

“Who?” He asks warily, because he knows exactly how the two of them are and that they will somehow manage to get their way in the end. He might as well know what he’s up against.

Ron at least has the decency to look ashamed. “The twins and Ginny. They kinda found out over the summer that we’re friends, plus the twins are wicked smart and Gin  _ was  _ one of the two idiots to survive the Chamber the first time around.”

Draco  _ loathes  _ that it makes sense, but Blaise and Pansy look like they’re ready to submit, so he rushes out, “On one condition!”

“You have a condition?”

Draco swears he hears Harry mumble ‘of course he does’, but he can focus on that later.

“They can come if we bring Luna and Millie.”

“What-”

“Why them-”

“Millie’s already two seconds away from killing us-”

“Luna is-”

_ “Listen!”  _ Draco snaps, pinning them all with a glare. “It’s not fair for the Slytherins to be outnumbered. Millie is the only other person in my house that’s on our side. She’s completely alone when she isn’t with us and she’ll get curious and follow us out one day if we don’t go ahead and invite her! And Luna- I know she’s young but she’s the same year as Ginny and if I can introduce her to the right kind of people, the people who will protect her, people that others fear and respect, it might just end up saving her life. She’s  _ family  _ and every person in this room knows how much family matters to me.”

Harry shrugs, “We’ve never had a problem with Millie. Besides, Luna and Gin are already friends.”

“Yeah, you really didn’t have to go all ranty on us.”

“It was rather rude of you.”

Pansy stifles a laugh, Blaise doesn’t bother.

“I’ve been trying to tell him to be less dramatic for years.”

Draco throws a pillow at his head and huffs just for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so excited for next chapter's Gossip Girl Draco and Confused Harry holy FRICK  
> also next chapter we find out about The Dinner Party


	10. Gossip Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is this?” Draco straightens his robes, “Are we having an intervention?”

“It’s always  _ something  _ with you, isn’t it?”

He should be working on his homework, or drinking with Blaise since they already have enough material to go on for their little drinking game, or catching up on the sleep he’s missing, or doing whatever the hell  _ normal  _ students do on Friday nights. 

But instead Draco’s here, following Harry down to the Chamber. 

_ Again.  _

“First year you just  _ had  _ to go stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

They step around a pile of bones.

“And then second year, you couldn’t just leave things alone, don’t glare at me, you  _ literally  _ withheld a powerful Dark Artifact that was responsible for all that shit! I’m not saying you didn’t have a right to be curious, I’m just saying that if you had gone to Dumbledore none of that would have happened.”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Alright. I’ll give you those two, but last year? You can’t blame me for being worried about a supposed serial killer out to get me.”

“No.” Draco grins back. “You  _ think  _ I can’t blame you, but it’s your own fault for being out of the castle after curfew.”

“Because we always follow the rules here.”

Draco leads the way to the snake door this time. “Obviously.”

It’s weirdly comforting to return to Geia after a long day. Like seeing an old friend, or in his case, a being brought to such a low that not knowing one singular question in Charms seems a little silly. Besides, he knew it after a few seconds, and he highly doubts Geia knows the answer to her little predicament yet.

Because he cannot speak Snake, no matter what his peers thought two years ago, Draco spends the time studying the Chamber. It’s bigger than the Malfoy Ballroom, which is saying something because their ballroom is three stories high and at least the width of a normal house, but dirty. Winky will have a field day if he ever lets her down here, which he might because she seems to enjoy decorating. He’s under no illusion that the flower lights in his dorm room had been Snape’s idea, not after her stunt in the Gang’s Room, which they really need to name. 

He doesn’t move, but he does envision a place that isn’t so dirty and filled with death and squalor. Even though Polly refused to interact with him after the whole Lockheart thing, he would never let her cage get this disgusting.

Salazar Slytherin would have a fit if he knew what his great room has been reduced to. 

“Okay. She says you can clean her wounds now, and yes, she did swear not to eat you.”

Draco moves closer to the being, and the closer he gets the more annoyed he becomes.

Geia clearly hasn’t had a bath in a few hundred years, give or take. She smells  _ awful  _ but somehow looks even worse now that he’s over the whole Possible Threat thing, he’s seriously considering letting Winky and Dobby know where he disappeared to so they can give her something better than this. 

He tells her just that.

“You’d probably feel better after a bath, you know.” He keeps his voice low so Harry can’t make fun of him. “Polly always liked baths….you don’t know who Polly is. She’s my snake, the one I have at home, I mean. A complete beauty, she’s a garter, with little white lines on the side of her. We found her at this island my family has a house on. Well, my mother found her in the shower. Little baby at the time, but she was so small and sweet I had to keep her. She’s nearly twenty seven inches now, so roughly the size of your head, huh?” 

Draco uses his wand to gently cascade water over the wound on her head, there’s no way in hell he can reach it otherwise. “Anyways, once we took her back when we went on vacation. I was eight at the time, and mother threw this ridiculous dinner party, naturally forgetting all about me and Polly, since the dogs had just died we were trying to make my father feel better- I’m about to go over your eyes, please don’t bite me.”

Geia hisses, he gets a mouthful of bad breath. Harry chuckles. “She says she won’t eat you and to finish your story.”

Somehow, he highly doubts the Basilisk  _ wants  _ to hear about his little asshole who won’t even let him hold her now, but he works better when he talks, so Geia will just have to suck it up. 

“Bossy.” He chides, taking his wand out again. “So, there we were, having this beautiful outdoor gathering, and Polly slithers up to me, probably because the house elves were all too afraid to feed her, and people started freaking out. And like, I get it of course, most of the people associated snakes with That One Asshole, you know the one, but they completely over reacted. Someone had the audacity to  _ stab  _ her!”

Geia huffs, and her breath still makes him want to retch, but “I know, right?! I’m about to use some disinfectant, it might sting.”

Draco does back up for this spell, but only because he has to rub it in with his hands and he can’t cast with no space. A flick of his wrist later and the familiar substance is there, bringing back way too many memories of his cursed wound. But he’s stronger than he was when he got it, so he just shakes his head and gets back to work.

“Like, we were all having such a nice time and then you have to go and hurt my pet? It was a dick move, at the least. So anyways, after I hexed the bastard, I immediately freaked out because mother’s told me for  _ years  _ that there’s no way to heal a snake, and Polly was just  _ bleeding  _ so she just took the snake and disappeared. I still don’t know what happened, but now my poor baby has this little scar right on her back. She lived, of course, which is why I’m bothering to help you, but the point is that during her rehabilitation period, she developed this love for baths.”

One eye down, one to go. 

“Whenever I would take bubble baths she’d always try to sneak in so I eventually just added a little spring to her tank. Which is a problem now because she refuses to interact with me. She’s lucky our house elves got over their silly little fears, or she wouldn’t be getting fed. Though all they’ve had to do since that dinner party is throw some meat in her tank and run, so I don’t guess it’s hard.” 

Draco taps her nose twice and her head sinks into the ground so he can reach the wound at the top of her head. It’s a stretch but he really doesn’t want to get more grossness on his robes than necessary. 

“And though I was originally just trying to convince you to take a bath, you’re probably wondering why Polly isn’t talking to me anymore, and let me tell you: it’s all Harry’s fault!”

“What’s my fault?” Harry asks from a few feet away.

Draco pauses to smile sweetly at him. “Everything.”

He turns back and completely ignores Harry’s reply so he can recount the events of Polly’s adventure in the Dueling Club. 

“There was this idiot professor in second year, his name was Lockheart and everyone with a brain hated him, because he very obviously did not have one. The self-glorifying prick started this dueling club and my godfather, who’s also my Head of House, made me take part in it against that moron over there. And while Harry is also an idiot, I don’t want to seriously hurt him, you know? Like sometimes I want to strangle him for the amount of trouble he gets himself into, but I kinda need him around. But there we were, dueling against each other and he was playing dirty and I remembered how scared everyone at the dinner party was so I summoned Polly.”

Draco sighs, realizing he’s not going to be able to reach all of the wound from where he’s standing. “Can I climb on your back? I can’t reach. Also, is this stuff stinging you? The wound is clearly infected and I’m not sure this will work, but if it’s burning that’s actually apparently a good sign.”

Geia hisses, Draco holds his breath so the smell won’t bother him this time. 

“She says yes, and that it um…”

“It what?” Draco whirls on him with a raised eyebrow. 

Harry’s shoulders sag. “It burns, but not as bad as Godric’s sword.”

Draco blinks twice.

“You stabbed her with the Sword of Gryffindor?”

“Yes? I thought you watched it all in the foe glass?”

Draco takes a deep breath, “I watched you take down Child Riddle with a snake bite on your left arm, I saw Ginny freak out, and I saw Fawkes heal you. I did not, however, see you  _ stab Geia  _ with a  _ fucking enchanted sword!”  _ Geia hisses in what he assumes is agreement, but it brings up another topic he wishes he didn’t have to deal with. He turns to her regardless.

“And while we’re on the subject matter, you have a missing tooth don’t you?! Open your mouth!” 

Snakes can’t really have facial expressions, but she gives off a distinct amused vibe as she complies. Sure enough, giant sharp teeth are covered with semi dried blood and there’s another, probably infected, wound on the top left of her mouth. 

No wonder her breath is so awful.

“Thank you. I’ll deal with that as soon as I finish with your head. That wound is  _ clearly  _ going to take more work.” He sends a glare to Harry, who shrinks from the weight of it. “I’ll climb on now, if that’s okay.”

Geia lowers her head and Draco takes it as a ‘go ahead’. Once he’s on top and away from her teeth he recasts the spell and gets to work. “Merlin, Harry. The Sword of Gryffindor is essentially a Dark Weapon!”

“Like the one your father used on you?”

“Please.” Draco snorts. “Firstly, my father was possessed, kind of, let’s not forget about that. Secondly, Dark Weapons are more than just a spell cast on a premade object. Take the sword, for example. It was forged by Goblins for a known Dark Hunter, and I don’t know if you know anything about Dark Hunters, but they literally go around killing creatures made from Dark Magic. And in order to do that, you have to have something  _ made  _ by Dark Magic. Even in the old times it was rare to find one, but even then it was always people like Godric with his sword, Marie Laveau and her Voodoo Pins, the Holy Stakes used to take down that ‘Dracula’ guy-”

“Wait a second. You’re telling me Dracula isn’t a myth? I thought that was just a bad TV Series that Dudley isn’t supposed to watch.”

“What’s a TV Series?”

Harry sighs, “It’s...well a TV is like this box and it plays things that are kinda like our Wizard Pictures, but instead of a few seconds of movement, it’s longer and there’s voices and stuff to go with it.”

“So like a play in a box?”

“Yeah!” Harry smiles at him, it’s not distracting at all and he totally doesn’t almost fall off Geia's back. “Sorry, I know it’s cool and I didn’t mean to distract you, you’re just too smart to  _ not  _ know about TVs.”

Draco does not blush. He just chooses this time to slide off Geia because he needs to look at her mouth, not because it gives him an excuse to hide his face. “Well, you’re too smart to know a werewolf and assume vampires don’t exist either.”

As soon as his feet hit the floor Geia hisses so he turns and looks at Harry expectantly.

“She, um, she said you still haven’t finished your story.”

Is that pink in his cheeks or are Draco’s eyes deceiving him?

“Are you blushing?”

“No!” He totally is. Draco really needs to find out if learning Parseltongue is a thing. “It’s just hot in here!”

It is  _ not  _ anywhere near hot in the Chamber. It’s actually kind of cold and damp, which he’ll be looking into the second Geia is down for it.

“Sorry, do you remember where I left off?”

She hisses, Draco regrets forgetting to hold his breath.

“Something about summoning Polly? You’re not talking to her about second year, are you?”

“Mind your business, Harry.” Draco turns back to her and taps on her lower lip so she’ll open her mouth. Casting a quick  _ lumos  _ to see is also a bad decision, but at least he can see the damage now.

“Oh yeah! So I summoned Polly, right? And that dumbass professor _sent her flying!_ I was pissed, of course, and started to shout at him but then that one, the one still complaining over there, started speaking in Parseltongue, and I was so shocked I ended up staring at him while my godfather sent her home, and I couldn’t go back and check on her until summer and she’s been pissed at me ever since.”

Draco rambles on while he works, and he has to admit it’s very nice to just talk. No replies, or even movements back. Like the type of talking he does with LuLu when he’s stressed.

He wonders if LuLu would like Geia as he cleans her missing tooth area with water from his wand. The Kneazle probably would, afterall she likes everyone who isn’t against him, and he can’t see Geia being against him when she’s letting him put disinfectant inside her mouth without a single flinch.

The image of tiny little LuLu curled up with the gigantic Geia nearly has him hyperventilating, but he can do that later. Right now he’s stepping away from the Basilisk and wiping his hands on his ruined robes.

“Okay. That should about do it for tonight. Harry and I will stop by every Friday to clean and disinfect you until we have a more permanent solution. Until then, would you mind if I sent some friends to clean you and the Chamber up? With the amount of filth around here there’s no telling if the disinfectant will even work, and since we have to keep your wounds clean it seems pretty silly not to just clean the rest of you. If they’re okay with it, would you mind?”

Draco remembers to hold his breath this time and he’s so thankful for it. The hiss is long and he’s not sure if he’d hold out in the wake of such exposure.

“She says she doesn’t care, but she won’t eat them if you send them. They just have to have proof that they know us is all, and if they try to hurt her she will kill them.”

That seems fair. 

“Deal. I don’t think they’ll mind, but we’ll see. Goodnight Geia!”

He turns on his heel and walks away, waiting a second for Geia to hiss and Harry to follow so they can close the door behind them.

“She likes you, you know.” Harry tells him once the doors are shut.

“Of course she does. Everyone likes me.”

Harry gives him a look, Draco’s tempted to trip him on the way back up. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The letter from Sirius appears Wednesday morning at breakfast.

Hermione’s too invested in a book disguised to be her Ancient Runes text, but she’s not filling it to the brim with notes, so he’s willing to bet it’s actually some book with a possible clue to healing Geia. Ron’s almost equally into his eggs and grits, but he’s still aware enough to grin at the letter.

“From old Padfoot, eh?”

Harry grins back because by Godric does he hope so. 

Having weird dreams accompanied by his scar hurting, the mess from the World Cup, and his new giant snake friend doesn’t exactly give him a warm feeling, but Sirius does. The knowledge that he and Remus are somewhere safe that they like makes him happy, and he still can’t wrap his head around adults being nice, or worse,  _ caring  _ about him. 

Sure, McGonagall was nearing Mother point, and Mrs. Weasley had all but adopted him on the spot, but he’s never had a man care about him. Dumbledore’s always fifty-fifty depending on what mood he’s in, but he’s never freaked out about Harry being hurt like Sirius and Remus do. Dumbledore is no where near what he needs, and it fucking sucks, but he’s never had an image of a father.

Sirius and Remus are as close as it gets and he  _ adores  _ them for at least trying.

Though, Sirius could definitely use some work on his letters.

Really, what the fuck is he supposed to do with this?

_ Harry, _

_ You better be safe when this letter reaches you.  _

_ Come to the Flamel’s Fireplace at midnight on Wednesday. I can’t specify why, just that it’s important that you do. _

_ Love always,  _

_ Padfoot and Moony _

There’s nothing. Literally nothing for him to go off of. He doesn’t even know what a Flamel is, much less it’s fireplace.

“Hey, ‘Mione-”

“Not now, Harry!” She snaps, turning a page and completely ignoring him. Rude, but seeing that she’s working on what is technically  _ his  _ problem, he lets it slide and turns to Ron.

“Do you know anything about the Flamel’s Fireplace?”

Ron shrugs, talking to him through a mouth full of food. “Flamail wike Nicoughless Flamail?”

“Mate…” Harry grimaces, “I know you love you eggs but I can’t understand you.”

Ron makes a big show of swallowing, takes a big gulp of orange juice just to be an ass and Harry’s two seconds away from going to the  _ library  _ by the time he’s done with his little act.

“Flamel like Nicolas Flamel?”

“I have no idea.”

Ron shrugs again, “He was the guy who came up with the Stone from first year, remember? The alchemist? Pretty famous, I’m talking the stuff of legends here. He and his wife did a whole lotta good during the first war, but he’s apparently dead. Shame too, mum said he was a pretty good professor before he left to work on the Stone full time.”

Fun facts are great, but that still doesn’t give him the information he needs.

Not that it matters, he can focus on it later when Hermione isn’t racing off to Ancient Runes with her real textbook while he and Ron try to figure out their Ancient Studies homework that’s due next period.

But, the thing is, having that little note in his pocket is more or less like having a ticking time bomb strapped to his chest. The more he tries not to think about it, the more he does, which means he has no clue what went on in Ancient Studies, lunch, or Muggle Studies. And he knows he should spend his free periods going over papers and homework, or at least trying to start on the Transfiguration project McGonagall gave them (Harry knows she’s still annoyed about last year, why else would they have a project two weeks in?),but instead he spends them in the library because his friends are clearly useless and hate him.

Usually he’s only here if Hermione dragged him in, and he’s kinda hoping she’ll stop by so she can have a small heart attack and actually  _ help  _ him.

With Sirius, not the whole Geia thing, which, he admits, might take precedence to a hopefully harmless fireplace.

Harry really hopes the fireplace doesn’t harm him, he’s had quite enough of being harmed for the rest of his life, thanks. 

The only way it could possibly be damaging is if it’s the thing that finally manages to drive him to insanity, which isn’t all that unlikely because it’s five minutes to midnight and he still doesn’t know where the fuck he’s supposed to be.

He’d consulted the map, of course, but it had been about as helpful as Hermione during breakfast, so instead of being wherever the fuck Sirius wanted him to be, he’s in the Gang Room, and yes, he does agree with Draco, they really need a better name, but he didn’t know where else to go and this way he felt more like he was actually at least trying.

The door creaks open.

Harry’s wand is at the ready in a blink, but it’s pointless, because instead of some deranged killer coming to find and end him, it’s just Draco with a wary expression.

“You know I think it’s a little too late in the evening to be hexing anyone.”

Harry snorts, pocketing his wand. “Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone else to be here so late.”

“Well that makes two of us.”

Draco flicks his wand at one of the desks and a pile of papers appear, and then turns with his hands on his hips. “Want to explain  _ why  _ you’re here so late?”

There’s absolutely no reason for Harry to feel so small under such a gaze, it’s just him and the person he maybe, possibly, might have a crush on. There’s a fire burning in the background, and it dances on pointed cheekbones and for a second Harry has to fight to keep his hormones in check.

It’s almost easy when he remembers why he’s out of bed in the first place.

“Right, so, Sirius sent me this note telling me to meet him by the Flamel’s Fireplace, but I’ve been looking for it all day and I still can’t find it so I got frustrated and came here.”

Draco snorts like it’s something he expected, Harry expects some sort of ridicule in return, but instead his friend sits down at the table and starts flicking through papers.

He knows if he asks that he’ll end up bored half to death, Draco’s just as bad as Hermione when it comes to schoolwork. However, it’s also late, and he’s already  _ bored,  _ plus it wouldn’t be his  _ worst _ life decision.

“Did you come to do homework?”

Draco pauses, gives him a long look, and then shakes a paper at him. “It’s McGonagall’s project! I have all these shit ideas rattling around in my head and I can’t use a single one of them because they’re not good and-”

Harry should not feel this amused and happy over  _ Transfiguration,  _ especially because he still has no idea what he’s going to do for  _ his  _ project. But Draco’s in rant mode.

Draco in Rant Mode is dishearteningly cute.

His eyes go wide, pink dusts his cheeks, his hair raises a little bit even though Harry’s almost positive it’s just a trick on his eyes.

“Hey,” Harry says once Draco’s reduced to angry pants. “It’s not due until the end of the term, right?”

That, apparently, is not the right thing to say.

“Which is why I should get started on it now so it doesn’t ruin my Holiday!” 

“But you still have time to figure it out! All I’m saying is that you don’t have to do it now! If Hermione isn’t stressing about it, then you shouldn’t be either.”

Draco pauses, as if considering this, but before he can respond there’s a loud pop from the fireplace that sounds weirdly like his name.

“Harry?” 

Oh. It  _ is  _ his name.

Harry grabs his wand, just for safety reasons, and makes his way to the fireplace only to drop it and laugh.

Sirius’s head stares back at him, comically flickering in flames that just barely manage to resemble his hair.

“Sorry I was late, Remus has been-”

“Don’t lie to him!” Comes another voice, one that makes Harry’s smile widen. “It’s not my fault that you don’t understand the basic principle of cleaning!”

He’s so busy listening to them bicker he doesn’t notice Draco creeping up until the boy is pressed against him.

“Sirius?”

The man in the fire turns back to them, “Draco?”

His head is shoved to the side as Remus appears, “Draco?! Draco! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

Draco stifles a laugh at the sight before them, two grown men pressed together in a weird heap of fire that just barely gives off facial features.

“I didn’t know I’d be here either, but it’s always nice to see my uncles.”

“Uncles?!”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake” Sirius sighs, then; “We’re cousins, and Sissy is going to kill you for that joke one day.”

Draco just grins something wicked, “Nah, she thinks it’s funny.”

“Hold up.” Harry takes a second to piece a few things together. Like Sirius and Draco being on good terms, mentioning an inside joke with someone named Sissy that sounds weirdly like Narcissa, who he also knows is on Sirius’s good side, which leaves him with a couple hundred questions.

All of which he better get before he goes to sleep, or he really might border insanity.

“Oh sit down, will you?” Remus complains, “This is gonna be a long conversation if you don’t.”

It’s a long conversation anyways, but worth every second to feel Draco’s leg pressed against his during the tale that Sirius animates while Remus adds in a few facts. 

They talk about Sirius and Remus almost getting murdered by Narcissa Malfoy (“She didn’t almost murder  _ us,  _ Sirius, we just had an awkward encounter where she definitely thought we were robbers for a few seconds”). And about how great it is to finally reconnect with someone important in his life (“I’m right here, you asshole”). Narcissa’s Scheme, which he already knew about from the Gang’s meeting, but it’s still nice to hear the details (“You should’ve seen her, Harry, I think she might be more convincing than you”). 

The bit about Lucius throws them both off balance.

“What do you mean you had dinner with my father?!” Draco gasps, squeezing Harry’s thigh to ground himself.

Harry doesn’t find it a little distracting, he finds it  _ very  _ distracting, but still manages “He didn’t try to hex you, did he? Narcissa seems like a saint, but so help me if he stepped one  _ toe  _ out of line I’ll-”

“Do absolutely nothing because it was surprisingly fun.” Remus counters and for a second Harry’s completely convinced this year will be nothing but one unexpected turn after another. 

But then Sirius makes a face; “It was horrible, at first, but alcohol usually helps with that-not that you two are allowed to drink! You’re still underage! It’s bad enough that you’re both out after curfew!”

Draco and Harry share a look, silently agreeing that Sirius is a big lovable hypocrite but would also make a great father. 

This makes Remus suspicious, for some weird reason. “Wait a tick,  _ why  _ are you  _ both  _ out so late?”

Draco rolls his eyes and Harry hopes as hard as he can that fire can’t display blushes.

“I came to do my homework, and Harry couldn’t find the fireplace.”

“If he couldn’t find the fireplace, how is he here now?”

“Um,” Harry scratches at the back of his neck, “Luck?”

They don’t buy it, but the four of them end up chatting well into the night, up until he starts yawning and Draco shoots him a sympathetic glance. Remus and Sirius share some weird knowing look before bidding them goodnight, Harry forces them to promise they can do this again and they agree to chats every other week, same time and place, so they don’t interfere with Hogwarts work.

Then Draco holds out a hand and pulls Harry to his feet, “Come on, ScarFace, let’s get you to bed.”

“Ya know,” Harry yawns, “I really hate that nickname. It’s lame.” Another yawn. “You could do better.”

“Would you prefer Great and Admirable Saint Potter?”

Harry frowns, “ScarFace is fine.”

Draco laughs, turning to banish his homework back to his bedroom while Harry thinks about how lucky he is to hear real Draco Laughs instead of that fake shit he pulls in public. He’s bright pink when Draco turns back around, which really doesn’t help the whole situation.

“Harry?” He steps forward and Harry’s brain stops working for a second when Draco cups his face with one hand. “You’re burning up! You don’t have a fever, do you?”

“No!” Harry squeaks, “The fire was just hot.”

Draco raises an eyebrow, presses the back of his hand to Harry’s forehead, and then tsks. “You’re right about that, but if you get sick I’m going to kill you for making me visit Geia alone.” 

Geia would probably kill him if he didn’t visit, so there’s really no chance of that. Despite what his friends may think, he really doesn’t fancy the idea of dying. 

“I promise I’ll be fine by morning.”

Draco gives him a weird look, but steps away and tugs them both out of the room. “You better be. I can’t heal a Basilisk on my own.”

A strange way to say ‘I need you”, but Harry will take what he can get. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Two days before the first of October, when the other schools will be arriving, and Draco finds himself pulled into an empty classroom on his way to breakfast.

“Who the fuck- _ Ron!” _

Ron gives him an easy smile, but Harry standing beside him doesn’t look nearly as happy. 

“What is this?” Draco straightens his robes, “Are we having an intervention?”

The two share a look, Ron hopeful and Harry annoyed. His trust in them flies out the nearest window. 

“I’ve had an idea.”

Coming from Ron? This can’t be good... Draco knows he’s good at chess and other various strategy games, so he clearly has a brain somewhere. But knowing and trusting someone’s intelligence are two completely different things. Ron might be just as bright as Blaise, but he was also the boy who made himself sick because he thought pickles might go well with chocolate.

“This couldn’t wait until tonight?”

Ron shakes his head, Harry’s scowl deepens and Draco is suddenly very confused. 

Tonight was supposed to be the first big meeting, with their newbies coming into the mix, which means a lot of anxiety on his part because he  _ knows  _ the twins are gonna give him shit for  _ something.  _

Plus, Ginny is, admittedly, terrifying. 

A lot was being planned for tonight between Hermione and Pansy, and he’s not a coward but he’d prefer to stay out of their way if it means his head stays connected to his body. If Ron’s coming to him and Harry, that either means he’s planing on fucking something up, or he’s already fucked something up and needs help.

Either way it doesn’t bode well.

“When I was telling the twins, they pointed out something.”

An idea from the twins? That’s just about the worst thing Ron could come with. 

“They reminded me that we haven’t gotten in a fight in a while.”

Draco does a double take before a grin slowly spreads across his face. “You want a fight, Weasley?”

Ron’s grinning back, but surprisingly Harry looks less thrilled to be alive than he ever has.

Doesn’t stop his best friend from pulling Draco close and whispering his plan into Draco’s ear. It’s all very brilliant, and no one will get hurt, so all in all Draco doesn’t see the harm in it.

The best part is that he gets to be a complete asshole for no reason, definitely the highlight of his day.

Harry yawns through the explanation, but all he says is “Remember not to hurt me, please.” and since Draco’s spent the better part of the last four years trying to keep Harry from being hurt, he’d say the boy is in safe hands.

If said boy could remove his head from the classroom wall, that would be more reassuring.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Harry mumbles something incoherent, Ron shrugs. “He’s been having trouble sleeping. I’ll get him some coffee and he’ll be good to go, speaking of which, we should probably leave before breakfast is over.”

Draco checks his watch, if Ron’s made him miss his morning tarts he’s going to be cross. Oh well, he can always ask Winky to bring him some later. 

“Don’t forget, right before lunch, Malfoy.”

Draco shoots his friends a smile, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Weasley.”

He does, nearly, miss it.

Harry and Ron have to slow their pace down to a near stop, chatting about the bullshit Trelawney is putting them through all because he made an ass joke in class. Really, it’s as if she’s never had fun before! 

They’ve paused in the middle of the courtyard, waiting for the curse to come. Harry sees Ron’s face light up, and then sees the horror that follows it.

Draco’s not late just because of class.

He’s late because Mad-Eye Moody has turned him into a ferret and is currently debating on tossing him into the bricks. 

“Is that cowards trick something you learned from your father, eh, Malfoy?”

The white ferret is tossed from one side of the ground to the other, apparently it doesn’t take long to figure out if you want to hurt someone. Each time the ferret is lowered Harry can see the little body tense before it hits the ground. He moves three seconds before Ron does.

“How dare you point your wand at another wizards back-”

“Put him down!” Harry screams and- oh fuck- when did he draw his wand? When did Ron draw his wand?

Moody throws Draco into the ground with a wicked smile. “Shall I put him down again?”

Harry sees red for a moment because Ferret-Draco isn’t moving and he can’t tell if it’s the wand or the damage but either way he has every intention of blasting the asshole responsible right in his smug little-

“Mister Potter! Mister Weasley! Put your wands away  _ this instant!  _ What is the  _ meaning  _ of this?!” 

Harry doesn’t move even when McGonagall stands right in front of Moody, the only reason his wand isn’t pointed at the fucker’s good eye is because Ron forces his hand down. McGonagall is almost as pissed as he is.

“Never in  _ all my years  _ have I seen such behavior! What on  _ Earth  _ possessed you two to point your wands at a  _ professor?!” _

He refuses to take his eyes off Moody, who’s staring at him with some type of dare only Ron picks on up.

“He turned Malfoy into a ferret! He was beating him against the brick, professor!”

McGonagall turns so fast Harry briefly worries for her neck. 

“Alastor?! Is this- _ Mister Malfoy?!” _

She brushes past Moody, hitting his shoulder on purpose, and cradles Draco’s Ferret form in her hands. The glare she sends is so powerful Harry takes a step back even though it’s not directed at him.

“You and I will have  _ words _ about this, Alastor. You’re lucky Snape wasn’t here.” Harry hears her hiss. “Dumbledore’s office.  _ Now.” _

By some miracle Moody actually shrinks back and slinks his way backwards, glaring at the ground since he can’t glare at Harry, or Draco, for that matter.

McGonagall turns to them, still holding a limp ferret in her hands. 

“Both of you. Go eat,  _ now,  _ Mister Potter.”

She sees the look on Harry’s face and takes a few steps forward. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.”

Harry trusts her, of course. She’s one of the few professors that Harry will always trust. But Draco’s still limp in her hand and the only reason he leaves is because Ron forces him to.

So much for a fun little fight.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Pansy is the first one on him the second he walks through the door.

“Are you hurt?! That  _ bastard!  _ How  _ dare  _ he do this to you?!”

Draco can’t lie, he’s still  _ very  _ much in pain, but he’s also in a room filled with mainly Gryffindors, so he can’t show it. Pansy losing her cool is a rare sight, but not as much as Harry’s enraged face behind her.

“I’m fine, love.” He smooths out her hair. “Nothing I couldn’t handle..”

“Nothing you couldn’t handle?!” Harry shouts. Draco really hopes silencing charms went into the wards Pans and Hermione set. “He was _slamming you against stone!”_

Blaise steps forward. “I hate to agree, but I don’t believe you. Shirt off.”

“But-”

“Shirt. Off.” Harry growls, and Ron and Hermione both are nodding behind him with severely worried looks so Draco ignores the five people standing in concerned silence and shucks off his outer robe.

“You’re not allowed to over react.”

Pansy is going to throttle him if Harry doesn’t beat her to it.

All ten of them let out little gasps when his shirt falls off his shoulder and he swears he sees murder in some of their eyes.

So, the bruising looks worse than it is, he’ll give them that. Dark purples litter his chest, torso, waist, and further down which Harry so kindly shows the group with one step forward and a rather rough pull on his pants. Thankfully he doesn’t pull Draco’s pants all the way down, he’s not really into voyeurism, but his friends are apparently in the business of making him feel worse than he already does.

“I’ll kill him.” Harry snarls, right as Pansy throws herself into Draco’s arms.

“How  _ dare  _ he!”

“Oh, calm down.” Draco says softly, carding through her hair with one hand while the other catches Harry’s wrist. “I’ve had worse and he’s getting cursed out by Snape anyways. I promise my godfather is much more threatening than the two of you.”

Luna steps up, her wand already out. “May I?”

Pansy detaches herself, Draco steps forward and tells his cousin the exact spell he needs. A flick of the wand later and the bruises are gone enough for Luna to greet him with a hug as well.

“Sorry we can’t meet again on better terms.”

She laughs, “That seems to be the normal for us, doesn’t it?”

There’s an awkward moment where he’s buttoning up his shirt and avoiding eye contact with the Weasleys he’s not friendly with, and then Ron clears his throat.

“Sorry, mate. If I had know that Moody would-”

“Nonsense, Ron. None of us knew. It’s not your fault, you had a good idea.”

Hermione looks overly pleased with herself for some reason he can’t fathom, and then one of the twins- George maybe?- clears his throat.

“So...is strip searching Malfoy after he gets hurt the norm here or are you three really as vanilla as Mum likes to think you are?”

The original six lock eyes, and then Blaise, the giant asshole, says: “Well there was that one time Hermione yelled at Ron and I’m pretty sure he developed a kink from it.”

There’s a lot of shrieking and laughter that follows, Harry pulls Draco towards one of the open couches, and the night commences.

The twins, Draco has to admit they’re rather fun when you’re in on the joke, make room for Millie without question. It’s only a little alarming to see the three of them scheming together, he really hopes she’s just getting an Extendable Ear and not something that explodes. What  _ is  _ alarming is watching Luna and Ginny have a quiet conversation, maybe they’re just talking about whatever weird kick his cousin is on at the moment, but there’s definitely  _ something  _ more there. He makes a mental note of it and turns his attention to Hermione and Ron, who are in some deep debate with Pansy and a bored Blasie about the latest Herbology assignment. Blaise inserts that whatever plant they’re talking about is  _ completely harmless  _ to which Hermione rolls her eyes and explains that “Nightshade is literally a poison, Blaise.”

“My mother uses it all the time!”

“That’s because Belle needs a way to date freely, dear.”

Harry laughs beside him, the sound warm and familiar and for now everything in the room feels perfect. 

Turns out having more people just means more fun.

And more pillows to be thrown. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! just a heads up the next chapter might not be posted on our usual sun/wed schedule becuase i'm going to be out of town. i'll hopefully still be writing so we can get back on track but just a warning! love you all, stay safe, and i'll see you in the next chapter!


	11. The Goblet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He really loves magic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains memories from war. Mentions of torture

The arrival of the Beauxbatons is, for lack of better words,  _ amazing.  _

Pegasuses drive shining white chariots into their landing spot, a mass of white wings and blue lace that no one can quite tear their eyes off of. A burst of stunning blue magic later and a giant carriage is standing in the once empty grounds, full of windows no one can see through and blue-gold spirals that spin their way to the top where the glistening Beauxbatons symbol shines for all to see. Golden roses and periwinkle lavenders wind their way across, a light blue door springs into life, a handle that appears to be made of flowers twists open. It’s immaculate, clean, gorgeous,  _ perfect.  _ One by one, beautiful people file out, coming to stand in a perfect blue line, uniforms pressed and polished, looking like marble statues as Madame Olympe Maxime emerges, walking in graceful steps down to greet Dumbledore.

Draco’s never been more jealous in his entire life. 

In the line up he spots Fleur, but he can’t quite get to her now.

Because, unfortunately, the Durmstrang are breaking through the surface of the Black Lake.

It’s cool enough to capture his attention.

How can it  _ not,  _ a giant boat popping out of the sea is very much something to witness. Water rolls off the dark wooden ship like it couldn’t be anywhere else. Men, that Draco does recognize as attractive, slowly stop rowing as the boat comes to a halt. He kinda wishes they’d take off those big burly coats, but to their credit their over the top flips to shore are kinda interesting. Unfortunately, they don’t have time to magic the sweat and grime off their uniforms before the vessel opens and Igor Karkaroff is stepping off, looking every bit the asshole Draco remembers from his father’s study when Lucius was tempted to send him there.

Draco’s so,  _ so,  _ thankful his mother had thrown a fit over the whole thing.

Igor greets Dumbledore like he’s doing the man a favor and Draco decides then and there that he's awful.

Sure, he’s still annoyed with his Headmaster over the whole Putting an Innocent Man that just so happened to be A Relative in Azkaban thing, but he and Severus are the only people who can look at Dumbledore with  _ that  _ much disdain and get away with it.

The two Headmasters follow Dumbledore in the school, their students marching behind them, and only after the last traces of unfamiliar uniforms are gone can Flitwick get his class back under control.

“Settle down! We haven’t finished-”

Why bother, honestly. No one’s paying attention, not after that.

Blaise turns to him, “Are you sure I can’t flirt with your cousin?”

Draco hits him with his notebook and turns to watch Flitwick sigh and resign himself to the fact that any productiveness has long since passed. On the plus side, Draco’s  _ been  _ done with his assignment. He’s rather good at charms.

They’re released early, or rather, Flitwick kicks them out after his awakening. Draco hands in his work with a smile and joins his friends and the rest of the school in excitement.

Today’s the day, afterall, anyone who’s not excited is fucking mental.

Blaise and Pansy drag him and Millie back down to the dorms to change because “We’ve been wearing the same outfit all day! We can’t meet new people in  _ this!”  _

Which means he and Millie also somehow end up with new clothing.

Not that he’s complaining, of course.

Pansy’s managed to either sneak in or make a tight, dark, short dress that glimmers when she moves and demands to be noticed under her robes. She’s forced Millie into a similar dress, only her’s is green satin and less like a second skin. 

Draco’s just happy he doesn’t have to wear heels.

Blaise busted out the big guns, pressed black slacks that are a little too tight for comfort, but hey, his ass looks great even beneath his outer robes that he will definitely be leaving off on ‘accident’. Draco’s told to throw his shirt on the floor because it doesn’t go with the pants that Blaise picked, Pansy rummages through his drawers while Millie sits on his bed and plays with LuLu.

“How come your room is so much nicer than the others?”

Draco shrugs, spritzing himself with something that smells like mahogany teakwood. “Snape felt bad that Crabbe and Goyle are assholes?”

“Don’t let her lie to you,” Pansy pops out from his closet, “We have the room almost to ourselves with how much Daphne is gone.”

“That’s-hey! Watch what you're throwing, those are my  _ favorite underwear!” _

Pansy rolls her eyes and disappears again as Blaise appears from their bathroom.

“What do you think?”

Objectively, Draco knows his best friend is kinda hot. They’re far too close to family for anything to ever come of it, but he has eyes and raging hormones and even a blind person could spot Blaise on a street and whistle. His pants are just as tight as Draco’s, flexing muscles that neither of them should have with the lack of Quidditch. Shirt pristine as always, a dark olive that goes  _ so  _ nice with his dark skin, tucked in and fitted so that his arms are very much on display, despite it being a sweater. 

Pansy pops back up just to grin. “By Merlin, I think you might be hot Zabini.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all year for those who are  _ not  _ like my siblings.”

Draco laughs, his same thought, before Blaise turns and glares at him.

“What happened to your shirt?”

“Doesn’t match!” Pansy calls from the closet.

“We’ll be late if you don’t hurry!”

Draco takes a quick look at his watch and sighs. “Winky?”

She appears with a bow on a stool, knitting something that looks a lot like one of his old sweaters. “Master Draco?”

“Can you help Pansy? She’s looking for  _ something  _ and we’ll be late-”

Winky has a shirt in her hand before he can finish, handing it over as Pansy peers out of his wardrobe. 

“You found it!”

Winky raises an eyebrow. “I just be thinking what would go nicely with Master Draco’s pants and figures is all.”

Pansy wipes a non-existent tear from her perfect face. “Finally, another with taste that aren’t awful.”

“Hey!”

Millie doesn’t even bother, perfectly content to stay out of it with a purring LuLu.

The shirt is a simple silver silk. Pansy makes him leave the first two buttons undone, rolls up the sleeves because “It’s about the  _ arms,  _ Draco!”, and tucks it in. Finishing his outfit off with a belt Winky hands her and her black dragon skin shoes, it’s Blaise’s and Millie’s turn to cat call him.

Pansy surveys her handiwork before smiling. “Why, Draco, I dare say you belong in  _ Witch Weekly.” _

“Or in some poor soul’s wet dream.”

Millie throws a pillow at him, Draco laughs, reaches down to pick up LuLu and the five of them make their way to the Great Hall.

They’re the last people to show up from Hogwarts, which suits him just fine because at least all of the school turns to stare. He picks up some heavy lust, some jealousy, and a  _ lot  _ of appreciation as they make their way to the Slytherin table. 

Draco manages to catch Harry’s eye as he sits. 

If the boy looks at him like  _ that  _ every time he dresses up, he’ll have to be Pansy’s doll more often.

He manages one wink that turns Harry’s face an interesting shade of red before the doors open and Draco almost squeals.

Sure, he might be a bit biased because Fleur is a Beauxbaton, but there’s no denying how  _ breathtaking  _ the students are. Twelve students file into the room, singing a song he suspects is so pretty because at least one- probably more- are part Veela. There’s something about those who go to the Academy.

No matter their hair color, it’s all shiny and flawless. No matter their skin color, they’re all perfect and glowing. No matter their weight, they all are models. Backs straight, skirts and slacks uncreased, smiles perfectly white and dazzling. 

Something about that Academy produces the most beautiful people he’s ever seen, and in the middle of them all is Fleur, blond hair like his own going straight down her back and ending in little curls. Different from the other blondes because she is  _ radiant,  _ full of pride as though there is no one but her in the room.

When they were younger Draco called her his role model, and that stands to this day. 

Their song is over far too quickly, and they file themselves away to the side to make room for the others.

Every last one of them is fit as hell.

Durmstrang enters the room with fire blazing, and Draco’s tempted to make a joke about them all being hot. They flip, roll, chanting something without words that sends a thoom through everyone there. And in the middle is Igor, Viktor Fucking Krum, who is also fit as fuck, and someone Draco’s never seen. He lets himself appreciate how tight Krum’s uniform is before giving the stranger his full attention.

They’re almost as tall as Severus, with long blonde hair that rivals Fleur’s. Slicked back, cascading down like a waterfall. There’s a white beauty mark on their left cheek that contrasts with their skin. Darker than Blaise, but with the glare of Severus and the fashion sense of Pansy. Their pants are high waisted and dark, revealing several curves that blend perfectly with the cream sweater barely visible beneath the dark overcoat thrown across their shoulders. Their eyes scan the room without moving their head. Turquoise pierces him, he has half a mind to throw up his occlumency shields before they’re gone, fading with the rest of the students to the side so Dumbledore can give his speech.

Something about ‘no underage participation’ and ‘be nice to the other schools’. Nothing Draco pays attention to once he and Fleur lock eyes. 

It takes all of two seconds after Dumbledore finishes for Draco to make his way to her.

_ “Darling!” _

He’s going to get so much shit for speaking in French, but he couldn’t give a rat’s ass if he tried.

_ “Love!” _

Fleur hugs him tight,  _ “How wonderful to see you again! I did hope I would be one of the few selected, but one can never be sure.” _

_ “As if they would pick anyone but you.” _

She takes a second to look him over,  _ “Did you dress up?” _

_ “Perhaps. But, nevermind that, shall we go see Luna?” _

_ “Luna?!”  _ Fleur nearly blinds him with her smile. _ “I did not know she went here! Please, lead the way!” _

Getting shit for being fluent in French is nothing compared to the dirty looks he gets for leading his cousin to the Ravenclaw table. Luna’s on her feet before he can get too close.

_ “Fleur!” _

His cousins meet, embrace, and then he gets to watch Fleur cup Luna’s face. 

_ “My dear! Look at how grown you’ve gotten! You’re such a beautiful young lady, your mother would be so happy.” _

Not a subject Draco would’ve brought up for their first meeting, and Luna looks one more comment away from her Sad Look that always makes him want to burst into tears, so he slides his arms into theirs, walking them away from the Ravenclaw table in case one of those bastards happens to speak French.

_ “How is your sister, Fleur?” _

No one makes a single comment as the three sit at the end of the Slytherin table. Pansy joins them, introduces herself, and spends the next few minutes introducing Millie and Blaise to the rest of the Beauxbatons that followed. Fleur tells Luna and Draco about Gabrielle, and then yells at them for not visiting as often.

_ “Honestly, Draco, your mother has been with us for the past few summers. She sent a note about not coming this past year, is everything alright?” _

Draco smiles easily at her,  _ “Mother just missed me is all. We spent the summer on our island, I’m surprised she didn’t invite you.” _

_ “Please,”  _ Fleur huffs,  _ “The last time I went to that island I had to watch some asshole stab your snake, I do not wish to return and see the same happen to his cutie.” _

LuLu looks up at that, having already made friends with his cousin, and purrs a little louder. 

Draco could not agree more.

_ “Are you going to put your name in the Goblet?”  _ Luna asks. She’s tucked away in the last seat, right beside Draco and across from Fleur, almost as though they’re trying to protect her, which they most definitely are.

Fleur reaches out to grab her hand.  _ “Of course I am, My _ _ ō _ _ bu. Madam would not have brought me if she thought otherwise, but do not fret. I promise I am a competent witch these days.” _

Luna flushes at her mother’s old nickname, the one they rarely use these days, and then lets out a little laugh.

_ “Does this mean you can finally see the pixies in the gardens?” _

Draco makes a face, no matter what Luna says, he refuses to believe the little lights in his gardens are pixies. Fleur smiles.

_ “Not as well as you can.” _

Luna grins, desert is severed, and Draco has the pleasure of seeing Blaise nearly put whipped cream on his nose in an attempt to flirt with a brunette in blue.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I’m telling you, it won’t work.”

Wednesday rolled around too quick for anyone to notice, and with all the excitement of the Tournament, hardly anyone is remembering their classes.

Except for Draco and Hermione, that is.

The two of them are sat at one of the desks in the Gang’s room, instead of eating breakfast they pour over the other’s finished essays and try to figure out what the hell they’re going to do for McGonagall’s project. He feels a bit like he should go over the top, afterall she was the one who saved him from being a ferret and brought him to Madam Pomfrey when he couldn’t move.

A nice, well thought out and impressive project should show his thanks, but all he has is half-ass ideas and a brain that refuses to work with him.

So instead he’s proof reading Hermione’s Potions paper while she thumbs though his Charms essay. Flitwick still wasn’t happy with the Slytherins after last Friday, but it wasn’t their fault something was more interesting than his class. 

Across the room Harry, Ron, and Millie are working through their homework after a stern lecture from Hermione herself about the importance of doing homework the day  _ before  _ it’s due. Pansy and Blaise have already finished, so she can’t yell at them much, but it does disappoint her to see how little his friends are willing to put into their completed work. 

On the couches are the twins, Ginny, and Luna, who are all done with their assignments and chatting about something that’s probably at least a little stupid.

Luna glances up from  _ History Behind Family.  _ “The Goblet is made of ancient magic, perhaps something other than an age potion would work?”

Hermione drops the papers in her hand.

“Tell me you’re not thinking of putting your name in the Goblet?”

She doesn't get a reply.

_ “Fred! George!  _ That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever thought of! Luna is right, the magic of the Goblet is too complicated for something so simple! At the very least Dumbledore will have warded it against this very thing! Didn’t you listen to his speech at all?!”

Fred, no George, grins at her. “Of course we did,”

“We just don’t care.”

“It’s not fair to exclude us like this!”

“There won’t be another tournament for us to partake in!”

“So we just have to do it now!”

Ginny raises a single bored eyebrow, “But do you seriously think an aging potion will work?”

It doesn’t. 

They all manage to sneak into the Goblet’s room at just the right time to witness the giant fail.

Fred and George clink their glasses, down them, and a few moments later they smile and hop into the circle.

For a second Draco almost thinks it will work. They’re in the circle, bowing to applauding Gryffindors, so it might as well work. But then George-no Fred- no, both of them put their names in. All is quiet and then the Goblet roars and the twins are suddenly Dumbledore’s age.

Draco couldn’t hold back the laughter if he tried. Even Blaise, the only one he managed to drag with him, is chuckling.

The twins blink at each other, then share a wicked smile.

“Oi! Now that we’re in our old age, maybe we can get our business license.”

“Please,” George huffs, “You can do whatever you’d like, my back is  _ killing  _ me!”

_ “Your back?!  _ My back is on  _ fire!” _

“Well, you didn’t fall on your ass did you?! I’ve got ass  _ and  _ back pain!”

“That’s nothing! I’ve got- I’ve got heart problems!”

“I’ve told you for years, Freddie, that’s just called ‘emotional unavailability’.”

“I’ll show  _ you  _ emotions!”

Seeing two elderly twins roll about on the floor has  _ got  _ to be the highlight of Draco’s day.

But it’s nothing compared to the surprise that follows in the evening.

After dinner Draco promised to show Fleur around the castle, and since Blaise and Pansy were arguing about  _ something  _ in his room, Draco started with a less annoying place. 

The library. 

If he plays his cards right, he might even get some work done. School stops for nothing, not even the Triwizard Tournament.

_ “Is this your way of telling me I need to study?” _

Draco snorts, plopping down at his usual table while she sits in front of him.  _ “We both know I’d just tell you that. This is my way of telling you I need to study.” _

_ “Explain?” _

_ “I’m at the top of all my classes at the moment, there’s just this girl who’s nearly impossible to beat.” _

Fleur gives him a look.  _ “You? You’re having academic competition?” _

Draco nods, taking out his Herbology textbook because it’s the only class he’s not currently beating Hermione in.

_ “Who is this girl?! She must be brilliant.” _

_ “Oh she is.”  _ Draco sighs. He takes a moment to look around for his favorite bushy hair and spots her a few tables away, head buried in what looks like Potions notes. He’s five points higher than her in that class.  _ “Over there. You see the girl with the bushy hair? Her name is Hermione Granger, and she’s quite possibly the brightest witch of our age.” _

He keeps his voice low, not many people are in the library, and none of them are purebloods so he doesn’t think they’ll be able to understand him. Not that he’s taking any chances. Anyone could speak French at any given time these days.

Fleur’s just looked over her shoulder when it happens.

Viktor Krum has somehow managed to sneak in unnoticed, which is a feat in itself considering the fanclub that’s been following him around, and is currently standing over Hermione looking weirdly nervous.

He clears his throat.

“Excuse me, Miss, would you mind if I sat with you?”

Hermione doesn’t even look up, mumbling something to herself and flipping through her papers so Krum tries again.

“It’s just that there are no empty tables….”

A lie. There are five empty tables surrounding Draco and Fleur, and three around Hermione’s area. But this finally gets the girl to look up. She blinks a few times, and then looks around before blushing.

“Sorry! Were you talking to me?”

Krum looks like a whipped puppy. “Yes….I was wondering if I could sit with you?”

“Of course!” Hermione smiles. “As long as you don’t mind me talking to myself, that is.”

Krum laughs easily, sliding into one of the free chairs. “Talking to oneself while studying helps many people, especially when the topic is interesting.”

Wrong thing to say, when Hermione gets going, she doesn’t  _ stop.  _ “Oh, it’s very interesting! Well, as interesting as Potions can be, right now we’re brewing Pepper-Up, and I know it seems a bit silly but by Godric could I use eight of them.”

The joke isn’t funny, but Krum laughs anyway, and Fleur turns back to him with wide eyes.  _ “I think Krum might have a little crush.” _

_ “You think?” _

Draco turns back to his papers and hopes Ron doesn’t lose his mind over it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He meets Harry in the Gang’s Room at a quarter to midnight and immediately tells him about Krum and Hermione. 

Harry is, understandably, devastated.

“But! But Ron and Hermione have been-for at least a year now they’ve-”

“I know!”

“Godric, he’s going to be so upset….”

Draco tosses him a bag of jellybeans. “I just hope she’s the one to tell him.”

They’re in a bit of an odd position. Already on the floor for when Sirius finally gets around to calling them, lying on opposite ends of the same pillow. Draco rolls over to see Harry’s face, and it’s a little weird to see the boy upside down, but even weirder to feel his heart flutter when green eyes look back at him.

“Do you think he’ll ask her to the Yule Ball?”

“If Ron doesn’t get his shit together he might.”

Harry frowns, “Shit.”

Draco flicks his nose. “You think you’re in a bad spot? Pans is nearly done with her dress and has decided to make our robes too.”

“All of us?!”

“Not quite. I know Millie’s been roped into the whole thing, and she’s already gotten mine and Blaise’s measurements. Apparently she plans to add Hermione to the mix, which means she’ll be coming after you when she’s done with Ron.”

“What  _ is  _ she doing with his robes? You saw them, didn’t you? They’re bloody awful.”

Draco snorts, “She wanted to burn them, but Ron told her that it’s the  _ family  _ robes so she’s trying to fix them. Granted, I don’t think she’s been too focused on that with her own dress.”

“Do you know what it looks like?”

“Nope. I know it’ll be stunning, Pans is quite the perfectionist, but she’s refusing to show anyone.”

“Even Millie?”

“Even Millie.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, Draco gets a whiff of something that smells like citrus, and then lets the arm fall between them. “At least we’ll all look good while making fools out of ourselves.”

Draco has an odd urge to hold the hand resting by his chest. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve just realized that Gryffindors don’t really  _ do  _ dancing.”

“Too busy gallivanting through raging fires and saving snakes?”

“Don’t forget trying to escape life threatening situations, making maidens blush, and poking fun at ferrets.”

“Oh, _Merlin,”_ Draco groans, “don’t remind me. Snape is still pissed.”

“He should be! I still don’t understand why you won’t let him tell you mother.”

“What are we not telling Narcissa?”

The two of them bolt upright, smiling at Sirius’s face in the fire.

“Hi Sirius!”

“Evening, uncle.”

Sirius rolls his eyes in the fire, Remus’s head pokes up beside him. “What are we not telling Narcissa?”

Draco has a fraction of a second to glare at Harry before he’s diving head first into the story. He makes it way too dramatic, and full of colorful language that the two adults don’t even blink at. 

Probably because they share Harry’s furry.

“How  _ dare  _ he!”

“To a student?!”

“The Moody I know would never do such a thing! Tell me Sniffles ripped him a new one!”

Draco smirks at the memory. “He wouldn’t let me be there for it, but he was still raving when I went into his office. Something about Moody being a ‘downright arrogant fuck’ and ‘if he puts his hands on another student’ Snape will ‘castrate him and hang him out to dry’.”

“I knew he had a backbone somewhere under that cloak,” Remus laughs.

Sirius and Harry look struck.

“What? I thought Snape didn’t care about his students!”

“What are you talking about, Harry? Professor Snape cares very much for his students, he just has a weird way of showing it.”

“Remus! Don’t defend that prick!”

“Hey!” Draco snaps, “That  _ prick  _ is my godfather and has saved my life-and yours!”

Sirius has the decency to at least contemplate this, Harry just stares.

“But-he! Neville! He constantly picks on the boy! Not to mention how he treats the other houses! And he’s always mean and-”

“Harry,” Draco sighs, “Severus is  _ anything  _ but mean. Sure, he’s an ass sometimes, but he  _ always  _ looks out for his students. Do you remember first year when you followed him around and thought  _ he  _ was the one trying to steal the stone?”

“Yes?”

“He wasn’t. Obviously, he went down there to try and stop Quirrell several times, got beaten up pretty badly for it too. Ranted to Dumbledore about how  _ stupid  _ it was to keep the stone at the school in the first place, need I remind you that  _ he  _ was the one who kept you from  _ dying  _ in your first Quidditch match.”

“But! He’s  _ never  _ liked me-”

“Actually,” Draco doesn’t like the sheepish look on his cousin’s face. “That might be our fault.”

Remus snorts,  _ “Might be?  _ No, that's definitely our fault. Or,  _ your  _ fault, Sirius.”

“What did you do?” Draco asks, trying to glare but it’s rather hard to glare fully at someone who already looks guilty.

“Don’t look at me like, Draco! Technically, it was his own fault for calling Lily a ‘mudblood’ all the time! When he made her cry, well, James and I couldn’t just let it  _ go,  _ and for that matter I fully recall you and Peter being in on the whole thing too!”

Harry sits up straighter when his parents are mentioned. Draco and Remus notice and before he can demand the full story, Remus is telling it. 

“Stop trying to hide it, Sirius. The truth is that we weren’t exactly  _ kind  _ to Snape in our school years. He was an ass, and we were assholes back. At first it was light name calling, but then James developed his crush on Lily in third year and well...it all went downhill from there. He started calling her mudblood, and we retaliated. Badly. We were bullies, Harry. The awful sort. And as such, Snape wanted us gone. I don’t blame him, we rather brought it on ourselves…”

Sirius sighs, “It was fifth year, and he started sneaking around. Trying to get us expelled, I guess, and when he started to go after Remus, well, I kind of snapped.”

“Kind of?! You laid a trap for him! I could’ve  _ killed  _ him, Sirius!”

Draco’s eyes widen. “What?”

“I….I might have told him where Remus disappeared to every month. He wanted to know so badly, and I didn’t actually think he'd go down there, but he did. And when I told James he demanded we go and check, just to be sure. I didn’t really think anything of it, but your father was right, Harry. I went too far, and I should’ve known he’d go….”

“That night,” Remus continues, “Severus walked in on my transformation. I would’ve maimed him if James and Sirius hadn’t burst through the door, and after that, well, all of us were out for blood. And I hate to admit it, but if I was bullied relentlessly for years by some jerk and then his kid, who’s the spitting image of him, walked through my classroom doors….I don’t think I’d react well, either.”

Silence fills the room for a few heavy beats, and the Draco clears his throat.

“Did you ever apologize?”

“Of course,” Remus replies without missing a breath, “The day I got my job at Hogwarts I went to him and, yes,he refused me the first few times, but I eventually got him to have tea and we talked. Not a nice talk, but one that wasn’t awful. I think he made my potions as an apology back, so by the end of the year we were okay before….well...”

“And you?” Draco turns his face to his cousin. 

Sirius looks sad, almost as sad as he was the day he flew off on Buckbeak. “I’ve never really had the chance. I should. I think I might want to, but the last time we were face to face I was rather….preoccupied…”

Harry chuckles beside him, and Draco gives in to the laughter. He’ll write his mother and make her deal with it later, after all there’s no excuse for a grown man taking his anger out on a child. But for now he has to deal with Harry’s crossed arms.

“I still think he’s a giant prat. There’s no need for him to treat Neville the way he does.”

Draco shrugs, “Longbottom is  _ awful  _ at potions, and the one thing Severus hates more than those who don’t try are those who are too afraid to.”

“Neville isn’t afraid!”

“He’s been terrified since the first day of class!”

“Can you blame him?!”

_ “Yes!  _ I’m telling you, all you have to do to get on Snape’s good side is  _ try  _ and not be an asshole, despite what you might think, he’s very impressed with Hermoine, and even you on some occasions.”

Harry looks at him like he’s just renounced sweets. But before they can get into an argument, Sirius is asking about the Tournament and the thought is lost. For now, at least, but Draco adds it to his List of Things to Fix Later, and yes, he will be having a  _ long  _ talk with his godfather about the whole thing at their Friday tea.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s odd for a Friday in October to be so busy, especially when Halloween is still two weeks away, but, Merlin, Draco can barely catch his breath.

He arrives early to Transfiguration so he can have a chat with McGonagall.

“Mister Malfoy, how rare to see you here so early. You are aware that class doesn’t start for another twenty minutes, aren’t you?”

Draco resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead focusing on how anxious he is over this whole conversation, but, he has no fucking ideas and who better to talk to than the person in charge of such an outrageous assignment?

“Yes, I do hope you’ll forgive me for intruding, but I was wondering if I could speak to you about my project?”

McGonagall gestures to an empty seat. “Please, have a seat and a candy if you’d like, Godric knows all my other students take them.”

Draco selects one singular lemon drop, which makes her smile for some reason, and then sits. “I appear to be out of ideas, professor. I’ve written down dozens, but none of them stick, and quite frankly I’m not sure they’re good enough. You wouldn’t happen to have any recommendations, would you?”

He gets a thoughtful eye and a strangely knowing smile. “I, unfortunately, cannot hand you an answer to your issue, but I can give you some advice. This project will be something you’re allowed to keep, as such, my recommendation would be to make it useful. Something that could help either you or your friends. Something practical that you’d keep for a long time. Projects don’t make good decorations for my office, you know.”

Draco wants to ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean, but students are starting to arrive from breakfast so he goes to his seat at the back of the class and tries to think of something useful. 

Naturally, nothing comes to mind. 

Though he does keep trying to think, even as his friends drag him to DADA, where he doesn’t pay a lick of attention and ends up getting ten points taken from Slytherin. Oh well, he can earn them back in Potions.

At lunch all anyone can talk about is what’s going to happen at dinner. 

Fleur’s taken to sitting with him, which means Luna is usually at their table too, which means he and his friends form a baracide between them and the others, just in case.

_ “Are you excited?”  _ He asks as he picks at his salad.

Luna tries not to look sick, Fleur just seems gitty.

_ “Yes! I hope to get called on, of course, but even if I don’t it will still be nice to see my family, hm?” _

That puts Luna’s mind at ease, but Draco is still desperately trying to come up with something for his project. Who cares about a death competition he’s not allowed to partake in? Not him, obviously. 

In Herbology, Blaise rambles about how someone has clearly been tending to the greenhouses because Sprout has been busy, full of both compliments and complaints. Draco notes that Blaise clearly has a thing for plants, while also damming it all because he couldn’t care about them any more than he cares for the Tournament.

Flitwick once again gives up midway through class, seeing as no one is really paying attention, and since Draco  _ knows  _ Snape is free, he makes his way to the dungeons where the tea is already brewing.

“It’s like my brain has just up and left!”

“I daresay that happened a long time ago, Draco.”

He glares, he does, but Snape is too busy grading papers to notice and Draco really hates it when people ignore him, so he doesn’t even ease into the conversation. He belly flops and makes a horrid splash just because he can. 

“Pay attention to me! We need to talk about Longbottom!”

That seems to confuse his godfather. “Longbottom? Why on Earth would we need to talk about him?”

“Because, I was talking with a friend-”

“Potter, you were talking to Potter.”

Draco narrows his eyes,  _ “Fine.  _ I was talking to  _ Harry  _ and he’s under the impression that you hate every single student that’s not me, and I was  _ trying  _ to defend you but he pointed out how you treat Longbottom and I rather think he’s got a point.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come off it. Is it  _ really  _ necessary for you to bully him every time he comes into the classroom?”

“I don’t  _ bully  _ him, I merely engage in a bit of hard learning.”

“So you bully him. Don’t lie to me, I’ve had Potions with the Gryffindors since first year, I’ve seen literally every interaction. There was the time you tried to kill his frog-”

“I had the antidote right there, I was merely trying to make him take the class seriously.”

“That time you called his work ‘a tasteless mockery of the word disgraceful’-”

“Well it  _ was-” _

“And you made him cry on Thursday because he forgot one ingredient.”

“It was written down in his book! There’s no excuse for that! Literally, right  _ in front of him  _ and he still manages to screw it up? That boy has no hope for potions! He makes light of an  _ art,  _ Draco!”

Draco leans back in his chair, idly taking a sip of his tea. “All I want to know is  _ why  _ you’re so hard on him. It doesn’t have anything to do with the Old Days, does it? He’s just a child, there’s no need to take your anger at his parents out on him like you do to Harry.”

He wonders for a second if he went too far, Snape’s all but frozen and looks as though he’s preparing one of his nastiest sneers. But then, to Draco’s shock, Severus deflates.

His godfather mumbles something that vaguely sounds like ‘Merlin damn’, ‘fucking Ellie’, and ‘having morals’ as he rubes his forehead and then he sets his papers aside. Draco sits up. Apparently, this is a much deeper conversation that he thought it would be.

“You know I joined Dumbledore towards the end of the first war, correct?”

Draco nods, Severus told him about those days during his first year. They spent many nights in this very office talking about what it truly meant to support his father’s past, what it really means to follow Riddle. How he couldn’t sit by and watch his classmates either die or descend into madness, something about an old friend’s life being on the line had broken him, so he went to the only person he knew could help. 

“I was reunited with many people during those days, and because I was a double agent, I had to watch many of them suffer...and Longbottom’s parents were one of the worst. Their son had just been born, and the Dark Lord-  _ Riddle,”  _ Severus rolls his eyes, “was defeated not too soon after. Bella…”

Draco jolts at his aunt’s name like someone had hit him.

“She had long since lost her sanity, but that night whatever hope she had vanished. She brought them to the last Death Eater meeting and tortured them to suicide.” Severus says in a quiet voice. “Some people can’t handle Unforgivables, and those two were always too kind….I couldn’t do anything to stop them...and every time I look into that child’s face all I see is…”

He can’t finish, but he doesn’t need to. Draco has a rare moment where he  _ needs  _ to hug his godfather, but he settles for setting down his tea. Snape’s mask hasn’t faltered once inside the school, and he doubts talking of the past will be the thing to break him. 

“If you hadn’t been there, mother and I wouldn't be here now, would we?”

Severus doesn’t answer so Draco continues.

“If you can save a Death Eater’s wife and her son, then you can stand to be nice to Longbottom.”

“Nice?” Severus sneers, “You want me to be  _ nice?” _

“You’re really not the asshole you aspire to be, you know.”

“No, I am  _ very much  _ an asshole, you’ve just been around me too much to see it.”

“The joys of family,” Draco retorts dryly. Snape looks shocked, like he’s momentarily forgotten his importance, and then Draco gets to see one of his rare smiles.

“You should be getting to dinner.”

“As should you. Apparently, some type of important news is being disclosed tonight.”

Snape sighs, but he does stand up and lead the way out the door. “Your mother is still mad that I didn’t tell her.”

“Did you know?”

“As if that would keep her from being angry.”

They make their way to the Great Hall, talking about Narcissa and her annoyance that Draco might not be home for Christmas, but when they enter the room all thoughts of conversations stop. 

The room is almost as pretty as it is during the holidays. 

In the center is the Goblet, blue fire winking at anyone who looks too long. Banners from all three schools hang from the ceilings, candles float and cast shadows at any given surface. Draco smiles. 

He  _ really  _ loves magic. 

Dinner passes in excitement, only Fleur is forced to sit at the Beauxbaton table. Before he knows it, the desert is being cleared away and the excitement begins.

In alphabetic order the champions are called.

Beauxbaton goes first, and Draco holds his breath as the fire spits out a name.

“Fleur Delacour!”

His heart feels heavy, dread or excitement or both. Fleur smiles at her cheering friends, Draco makes a mental note to find out  _ every single detail  _ of the Tournament. His family is involved now, he  _ has  _ to know.

Durmstrang is next, and he’s not surprised in the least when Viktor Krum is announced.

But he does hold his breath again as the Hogwarts Champion’s name comes out of the fire. Dumbledore smiles, then announces to the world: “Cedric Diggory!”

The entire school cheers, Draco included because it’s  _ Cedric  _ and he can’t think of anyone better to represent them. Dumbledore begins another speech, and then the strangest thing happens.

There’s a sputtering noise, like something angry from the seven layers of hell. 

A piece of paper spits out of the fire.

Dumbledore catches it with a frown.

Draco’s heart stops, his breath catches, and he looks across the room to see his Gryffindor’s shocked faces.

“Harry Potter?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few things  
> 1) plz don't hate me for giving Snape a redemption story. it's gonna happen through the next few chapters but also if you read back i've been trying to make him a likable character from the beginning, unlike someone we all know and hate  
> 2) the they/them character i've been going on about i imagine to look like Nyakim Gatwech, but with natural slicked back blonde hair and weirdly bright eyes. if any of you draw them please PLEASE tag my tumblr because i NEED to see them but i also have NO artistic skills so like ya know :(  
> 3) my tumblr is mistake-snake


	12. The Goblet Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What’s more important than your crusade against house elves?” Ron asks.

Harry’s been in a room full of people that don’t like him before. Hell, during the summer he’s pretty much surrounded by assholes who don’t like him.

But the Dursleys don’t scare him anymore. Three angry, powerful, and glaring people that can cast deadly spells on the other hand....

He wonders briefly if Ron’s Quidditch Hero will be the one to kill him or if Draco’s cousin will do the honors.

Viktor Krum would leave him a little star-struck if he wasn’t staring at him like he’s some sort of trash. And Draco’s right, the man is attractive, but Harry can’t really focus on that when he’s trying to figure out what the hell is happening.

Fleur Delacour is equally as pretty and scary as Draco, only Harry feels like she might  _ actually  _ hurt him. Draco’s all bark, no bite, but she looks like she’s one spell away from adding to his lightning scar.

And Cedric Diggory….fuck he’s even hotter up close than he was the World Cup, but he’s also the first one to make a move.

A warm hand slaps him on the shoulder and he’s completely convinced that this is how he dies. In a room full of pretty people, without getting to even hold hands with his crush, or tell his friends that he loves them, and  _ fuck  _ Sirius is going to be  _ pissed- _

“You alright, Harry? You look like you’re going to fall over.”

Harry nearly collapses on the spot, he would if that wouldn’t give his acquaintances a chance to end him for good. Instead he looks up at Cedric and tries to smile.

“Probably just surprised that his plot actually worked.”

They both turn to Krum, who’s also moving towards them. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Your  _ name,  _ child.” Fleur snaps, “You put your name in the fire and-”

“I did not! I never wanted any part in this! At best I was worried about who to ask to the Yule Ball, but my friends would  _ kill  _ me if I tried something like that!”

All three of them look at him like he’s grown a pair of horns, which really wouldn’t surprise him at this point.

“You didn’t put your name in?”

“Of course not! I’ve had more than enough excitement in my life, thanks. Plus I was trying to get Quidditch back up and my OWLs are this year and oh fuck Hermione is going to  _ kill  _ me if I don’t have time to study and I didn’t even  _ do  _ anything this time-”

Godric, he doesn’t even want to think about what Draco and Pansy are going to do to him. Ron’s definitely going to be pissed, Blaise will probably slap him which he can deal with, and Hermione is going to lecture him until his ears fall off but there’s no telling what the other two will do.

“Harry! Calm down, mate. It’s okay...Dumbledore will fix this! You’re too young to participate, anyways.”

That gets his attention. He turns to look at Cedric again, “You...you’re right. I’m only fourteen, they can’t make me do this.”

“Actually.” Krum frowns, “The Goblet is binding….if your name was called you might not be able to get out of this.”

“He’s a  _ child!  _ Surely the Goblet will recognize this!”

“I’m not sure...Fleur, was it?”

The blonde nods, “Fleur Delacour. And you are?”

“Cedric Diggory. We all know Krum and Harry, and I highly doubt that Harry understands the whole  _ binding  _ thing.”

“Muggle-born?” Krum asks, surprisingly not disgusted. 

Harry shakes his head, “Muggle-raised. And Cedric’s right. I have no idea what the Goblet even is, much less what it does.”

Fleur has the same look that McGonagall wears around him sometimes. Oh fuck, McGonagall...she’s gonna be so angry…

As if somehow summoning teachers by just thinking about them, the door slams open. To his surprise, Snape is the first one in, followed by McGonagall, the other two headmasters, that pretty person with the long blonde hair, and Dumbledore, who closes the door behind him. 

Snape strides up to him, looking murderous and slightly concerned which Harry doesn’t know how to handle. Thankfully McGonagall beats him to Harry and cups his face rather harshly.

“What were you  _ thinking,  _ Potter?! Have you any idea what you’ve done?!”

“That’s  _ Harry Potter?!”  _ He hears Krum ask right before Dumbledore’s face comes into view.

“Now, now, Minerva. We have yet to figure out what truly happened.”

“What’s happened,” The pretty person starts with a thick Russian accent, “is a  _ child  _ being forced to compete by his own foolishness!”

“Ellios, please.” Dumbledore sighs, he then turns very calmly to Harry and clasps his hand in front of his blue robes. “Harry, my boy. Did you put your name in the Goblet?”

What? “No! Of course not! You know me, Headmaster! I never go looking for trouble!”

Snape badly hides a snort, and then all hell breaks loose.

“He’s lying!”

“He’ll be killed, Albus!”

“This goes against everything the Tournament has ever stood for!”

“It’s  _ ridiculous!”  _

“We can’t allow this to happen!”

“Pull yourselves together.” Dumbledore responds. His voice stays calm, but not quite. It’s loud enough for the entire room to stop moving, though the other teenagers have surprisingly moved closer to Harry. “The fact of the matter is that Mister Potter’s name has been called. You all know the rules of Goblet. If we pull him out now, he will die. If we allow him to participate, we have a better chance of saving him. We can aid him in his tasks and-”

“No!” Harry shouts before he can think better of himself. “If I have to compete I want to do it like the others! It’s not fair to them if I’m getting help.”

“Potter, this is  _ not  _ the time for your  _ morals!”  _ Snape seethes, the pretty blonde, Ellios, puts a hand on his back. 

“Severus, the boy has a point. I am unsure if he speaks from dignity or foolishness, but we must honor his wishes.”

“If we refuse he’ll just try harder to get himself killed.” McGonagall sighs. “Isn’t that right, Potter?”

Harry nods. “Yep. If someone tries to help me I’ll just make the whole thing worse.”

McGonagall fails to hide her smile, Snape’s looking at him like he might die on the spot. The other headmasters lean together in a hushed discussion, and the teens suddenly have respect in their eyes. Fleur steps closer to him.

“You are the same age of my cousin Draco. A year older than Luna....I do not wish to see you hurt in this competition, Mister Potter. Not when you remind me so much of them.”

Harry smiles at her. “I’ll be careful! Besides, I’ve dealt with worse than a competition.”

Cedric snorts beside him, even Krum cracks a smile.

“Perhaps, in the midst of our battles, we can learn about your adventures?”

“Sure! But I’ve got to warn you, it’s a bit of a long story.”

They all seem  _ very  _ invested but unfortunately, Dumbledore picks that exact moment to interrupt. 

“Then we’ve come to an agreement! Harry will compete. Splendid, now let’s all return to our beds, I rather think we deserve an early night in.”

One by one people are collected. The giant lady hugs Fleur, who bids Harry goodnight and leaves. That Igor guy that Draco doesn’t like grasps Krum’s shoulder. Krum looks a little apologetic before they’re gone too. Cedric pats him twice, and then leaves the room before the pretty person pulls Snape out the door. McGonagall tells him to go to bed and then follows Dumbledore to his study.

Naturally, Harry goes after Snape. Not because he’s weirded out by his concern, or anything, but because he’s  _ really  _ curious about the Ellios person.

He finds them in a nearby hallway, nearly exposes himself, and then manages to hide in a nearby classroom with the door cracked just enough to hear. 

“You need to hide your concern for the boy, you’re just being obvious now.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ellios.”

“No idea-  _ Severus!  _ You nearly tackled Igor when he brought up Potter’s death.”

“Someone had to shut him up. I have no idea how you’ve managed all these years.”

“Well, someone did not give me much of a choice. It was easier when I had a friend writing to me, but that was four years ago, was it not?”

A silence hangs heavy between the two. Harry hears a bit of shuffling and then something that leaves him even more confused than before.

“Ellie….” He never knew Snape could sound like a human. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can apologize...it was one disaster after another, and it still is. In the midst of things I just..”

“Forgot? Because I am so very forgettable.”

The silence is back and Harry wonders for a second if he should leave. This doesn’t really seem like an appropriate conversation to eavesdrop on. 

“You know I didn’t-”

“It does not matter.”

There’s a familiar sigh and then Snape says, “Personal matters aside, then. Igor has no right to treat my students like pigs. I won’t stand for it.”

“So you are no longer a Potions Master, just a prick who defends people’s honor?”

“If it’s my students that need defending then I will gladly leave my mastery behind. Especially now.”

A sharp intake of air. “It is true then?” Ellios whispers, “Willie was right? He is back?”

Harry leans a little closer to the door so he can see them. Ellios has his-her?- hand on Snape’s arm, gripping it tightly. Her-his?- face is scrunched with worry and horror. Snape pats their arm twice.

“We shouldn’t talk about that here.”

Ellios’s face clears before he-she- _ they  _ smile. “Are you inviting me back for a nightcap?”

“Please, if I did that you’d just slap me.”

“I am coming now, am I not?”

Harry never, like never  _ ever  _ expected the sight. Flying cars would be more likely than Snape  _ smiling.  _ Like he’s some gentle fucker instead of an asshole that bullies people, but there he is. Smiling gently at Ellios like he’s smiled more than twice in his entire life.

“All I have is mint tea at the moment.”

“Your godson’s favorite.” Ellios seems amused, but Harry is still confused. “It is acceptable...lead the way?”

They start down the hallway, and since Harry is now confused and tired and he hasn’t even faced his friends yet, he steps out and starts making his way to the Gryffindor common room. He makes it ten steps before remembering that it’s  _ Friday,  _ which means he has to go see Geia. 

How the fuck did his life always manage to get so messy so quickly?

Technically, it’s not passed curfew yet, so he really shouldn’t be surprised when hands grab him and force him inside what he quickly recognizes as the Gang’s outer rooms.

Someone slams him against the wall, which is fair, and then Ron’s face comes into view.

“Did you do it?” Ron whispers. He’s not angry, more worried and scared, and Harry really can’t deal with any of those emotions coming from his best friend.

So he deflects. “What are you talking about?”

“The  _ Goblet,  _ Harry. You promised me and ‘Mione that you wouldn’t do anything stupid this year! You  _ promised.  _ So why the  _ hell  _ did you put  _ your name  _ in the  _ murder Goblet?” _

“I didn’t.” Harry says. “You know I don’t go back on promises. Besides, if it didn’t work for the twins, why would it work for me? I’m honestly just as surprised as you are!”

Ron considers this for a moment before he releases Harry with a sigh. “You swear you didn’t?”

“On Sirius’s freedom.”

That seems to be good enough for his best friend, who gives him a hard look and a side hug. When he steps back Harry sees four other people and then Hermione is hugging him.

“This is not good, Harry.” She says when she pulls away.

Draco steps up, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “That’s an understatement….”

“You’ve managed to survive a lot of shit, Harry.” Blaise mummers, moving to stand by Ron and pat his free shoulder. “But this is different.”

“What do you mean?”

Pansy looks like she’s on the verge of tears again. “It means I’m five seconds away from making you sign a blood contract too. The whole group of you. If I get grey hair before I turn eighteen I’ll murder you myself.”

Harry snorts, patting her arm and moving them all into the inner room. Ron and Hermione sit on the love seat by the fire, Pansy and Blaise curl up in the armchairs and Draco sits so close to Harry on the other couch he’s almost glued to his side.

“Alright. What gives? I know this is dangerous and all, Fleur was  _ very  _ clear about that, but I don’t understand? It’s just a competition, right? And someone said something about the Goblet not letting me stay out, which I also don’t get, so if any of you know…”

Hermione sighs. “It’s so much more than that.”

“Explain? Please?”

“The Goblet is made of ancient magic.” Pansy begins. “In the past, there were battles full of great wizards. Hundreds of thousands were throwing their lives away for a chance to be called great.”

Hermione reaches out to pat her leg. “Eventually, Godric Gryffindor joined the fight. He murdered three hundred wizards and witches before he saw through his craze for power and created The Goblet, and in turn, the Triwizard Tournament.” She says quietly.

“His thought process was that if there was a competition, a  _ real  _ one, it would help eradicate useless deaths of our race.” Pansy continues. “And because of the dire circumstances, he employed his friends to help. Together, with the other founders of this school, they put in rules and regulations to ensure the Goblet would work.”

“Godric Gryffindor thought up the games, keeping them violent so it would catch the attention of those who yearned to die.” Hermione picks up, “Rowena Ravenclaw constructed the magic and the contract part. Anyone who was called upon to compete had to have strong magic, afterall, their goal was to  _ stop  _ the death, and once they were called they could not escape their duties. If they did Salazar Slytherin said the punishment should be death. A life to save another life….and the others agreed. Helga Hufflepuff demanded an age limit so children wouldn’t die and after they worked out the kinks the Goblet and the Tournament was born.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Blaise adds, “It was the first time they came together, and after they saw how much it helped, they decided to make the school...and when they noticed that other countries were having the same issues, they branched out and invited other schools to join their competition.”

“How do you all know that? Hermione bullied me into reading  _ Hogwarts A History  _ last year and I don’t remember any of that!” Ron whines.

Draco shifts, hand still digging into Harry’s arm. “Father taught me about it when I was a kid. I asked why the founders were important and got an earful.”

“Same. Mum told me and Pans the year before we left. Said we should be prepared for everything.”

Hermione shrugs. “I got curious when I didn’t know what it was. Took a while to find the right book, but Madam Pince lets me in the restricted section all the time.”

“It’s okay Ron, I didn’t know either. On the plus side, now I know why Dumbledore is making me compete.”

“He’ll help you, won’t he?” Draco asks.

Harry swallows, “About that…”

“He’s not!”

“But you’re-”

“I kinda told him not to?”

Pansy is surprisingly the first one to react. “You  _ what?!  _ Have you lost your fucking mind?! You’re going into a  _ death competition!  _ And you turned down help?!”

He’s vaguely aware of Draco’s rising hair beside him, but he’s sure it’s just a trick on his mind. There’s no way anger could cause hair to go flying.

“It wouldn’t be fair to the others! Cedric is a friend! I shouldn’t be competing anyways, it’s probably just another fucked up plot from Riddle McTiddle to kill me! He shouldn’t be pulling others into this shit! And forcing them to compete while I’m getting help is just a guarantee that someone will die!”

“Not everything is about you and Moldy Voldy!” Blaise snarls.

Ron, surprisingly, is very deep in thought as the others yell at Harry. He waits until Hermione is breathing heavily to speak up.

“It actually makes sense…”

Hermione whirls on him, “Excuse me?! Don’t you  _ dare  _ feed into Harry’s idiotic-”

“Hear me out!” Ron snaps back. “Every fucking year this happens, doesn’t it? In first year we didn’t believe him, and then McTiddle was hiding behind Quirrell and nearly killed us all! And in second year, we didn’t believe him either, but guess who was behind the whole Children Nearly Dying Thing, that’s right. Thomas fucking Riddle. Even last year, Sirius and our pest problem was what? Another issue caused by our Grindelwald Wannabe. All I’m saying is that when Harry thinks Riddle is behind something, he has a record of being right.”

Their group seems to consider this but Ron isn’t done yet.

“We know from the twins that the Goblet won’t accept underage people putting their own names in, but what…” He looks around, brows slightly furrowed. “What if someone, someone like Pettigrew, put his name in? What if this really is another death plot?”

“You think someone in the castle is helping him?”

“Isn’t there? There’s been a ‘helper’ in the castle every year so far, it wouldn’t be insane for another one to be here. Especially with the other schools present.”

Harry groans, “Couldn’t he just do this the normal way? Does he really have to endanger students every year? Why can’t he just confront me and get it over with?”

Draco slaps his arm with his freehand and then glares. “Ron is right. We need to be on the lookout for suspicious people. Among other things, we have a few letters to write.”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione asks.

“Well. For starters, Harry you  _ need  _ to write Sirius and Remus. They need to know about this from you before the papers come out. I need to write my mother and inform her, and Ron you should probably write to your parents too. I’ve seen how they treat Harry, they won’t take kindly to finding out via Rita Seeker anymore than Sirius will.”

Blaise groans, Hermione doesn’t get it.

“Who’s Rita Seeker?”

“The worst woman to exist.” Pansy says darkly. “You remember how you described Pettigrew to me? Imagine that but with a backbone and the drive to be actively annoying.”

Blaise chuckles, “You’ll meet her soon enough and you’ll hate her more than my mother does.”

“Speaking of Miss Belle,” Draco says, “Would you mind writing her? Mum has locked off the libraries to keep Father out, but I need as many books on the Tournament as possible.”

“Why? We have Hermione and Pansy and they know everything.”

“Because not only Harry is involved, but Fleur is too! This is my  _ family  _ we’re talking about.”

“And we all know how protective Draco is of his family.” Ron quips a little dryly.

Draco throws a pillow at him and ignores his friend’s laughter.

“Until we find out what the first task is, Harry, you should probably start training. You’re gonna need muscle  _ and  _ magic to survive this.”

“I think you just like your men muscly.”

Draco throws a pillow at Blaise too, but thankfully, Harry didn’t hear anything but the boy snickering. 

“I’ve actually been working on Angelina.” 

“Please!” Ron snorts, “You’ve all but bullied her into starting Quidditch up again!”

“I did not! I asked her once and she’s fully on board!”

“Is that why Flint wants to see me and Blaise on Monday?”

“Probably.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, “Merlin...you’re definitely going to die this year. Can I get some sleep before that happens or are we trying to get caught out after curfew?”

“About that…” Harry rubs the back of his head. “Draco and I still have to visit Geia.”

Draco sighs. “Hopefully she won’t smell like Riddle’s dirty underwear this time…”

“We’ll wait for you to get back.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ “Your boyfriend seems upset, what did you do?” _

He knows Geia is speaking to him, but he’s a little busy being breathless.

Apparently, Draco  _ had  _ talked Dobby and Winky into cleaning the chamber.

Like,  _ all  _ of it.

Surprisingly, the floors aren’t grey but a dusty marble that reaches to the ceiling. A mural of what looks like Greek gods was hidden under layers of dirt and grime. Now the figures fly around, winking and playing some sort of game that he can just barely make out when he stares up. The water is clear now, a beautiful blue tinted liquid that Harry knows is deep, but that’s hard to remember when he can see intricate patterns at the bottom of the marble pools. The statue of Salazar has also been cleaned and looks a whole lot less threatening that it did in second year. Now it reminds him of something from one of the Weasley’s vacation photos. 

In the center of the room is a soft looking jewel toned rug and a giant pillow that Geia is curled on and Geia…

Someone has obviously cleaned her. Instead of being dust and grime covered, she’s gleaming. Her black scales seem iridescent in the lights, like a rainbow on black paper. She’s beautiful, honestly. Only, Harry sees a few things that are worrying.

The scars on her eyes and head seem a little better, but there are two long white lines on her sides that look like old healed scars.

Draco notices them too.

“I see you got a bath, you look stunning, but what the hell is this? Did you hurt yourself while we were away?”

_ “They are from long ago, tell him Speaker. If you refuse to give me your information, you can at least relay mine.” _

“They’re old.” Harry breaths to Draco and then to Geia,  _ “Sorry, I was a bit distracted. What was the question?” _

Geia makes a noise similar to a tsk,  _ “I asked what you did to upset your lover.” _

_ “He’s not my lover!”  _ Harry groans,  _ “And I didn’t do anything, it’s more like something’s been done to me.” _

_ “Is someone hurting you?”  _ Geia sounds a little protective, but he’s sure his ears are hearing wrong.

_ “Not yet. It’s too early in the year for that, it’s more….do you know about the Triwizard Tournament?” _

_ “Of course. I was there when it was made.” _

Holy fuck this is one old snake.  _ “Right...well it was banned for a few years, and now it’s back and I shouldn’t be able to participate because I’m too young and I don’t want to, but someone put my name in and now my friends think that One Asshole is trying to kill me again.” _

_ “You shouldn’t take this threat lightly, young Potter. Riddle is a fool, yes, but a dangerous and powerful one. If he is truly after you, he will not stop until he has you.” _

_ “Thanks for the pep talk.” _ Harry grumbles.

“Hey! Are you listening to me? Ask her where these wounds came from if they’re not recent!” 

Harry waits for Geia to respond, and when she does she sounds a little confused.

_ “Do you not know of Basilisks?” _

Um…  _ “No? We didn’t know they existed until you saw you.” _

If she still had eyes she would probably roll them.  _ “I suggest you do your research. We’ve been around for a very long time, I was once called the Serpent King, and with your family’s history it shouldn’t be too hard for you to figure out.” _

_ “You know about my family?” _

_ “Do you not?” _

Harry rubs his forehead. “Is it a requirement for old things to speak in riddles?”

Geia hisses at him, Draco just shrugs. “Her wounds are looking better, other than the sword one. I have an idea for that, but it will take some time.” He turns to Geia. “Would you mind if I brewed something down here? It’s for your own good.”

Harry turns to Geia, noting that her breath smells better too.

_ “He was right about the bath, I will do what he thinks is good.” _

“Yeah, she’s okay with it.”

Draco pats her twice on the head and when she doesn’t comment Harry guesses it’s okay. And the, his asshole says, “Did you tell her about the latest murder plot against you?”

“Alright!” He doesn’t bother speaking in Parseltongue, “We’ll see you next week, Geia! Have a good one!”

_ “I didn’t take you for a coward.” _

“She said she’ll miss us! Let’s go, Draco!”

_ “Take care of your love, and don’t forget to do your research.” _

Harry doesn’t bother responding, he grabs Draco’s hand and marches out of the room, prompting ignoring the blush on his cheeks. Once they’re outside Draco looks at him. 

“What did she say to you? Were you being rude? She’s our friend, you can’t be rude to her!”

_ “She  _ was being rude to  _ me!”  _

“She’s an ancient being. She has that right.” 

Harry resists the urge to sigh, instead he rubs his head again. “I just have a lot to do, right? The whole house is probably waiting up to yell at me, McGonagall is going to pull me aside and yell at me too, I have to write to Sirius and Remus, figure out what the hell is going to be first, Hermione is probably making a new study plan right this second and-”

Draco squeezes his hand. Harry didn’t realize they were still connected, but at the moment he has no intention of letting go.

“Do you want to go dancing?”

Wait.

“What?”

“Well, Blaise and Pans are probably still waiting for me, and everyone is stressed, and since none of you know how to dance….what better time to learn?”

“But…but I have to-”

“You need to get your mind right before you do anything else. If you write to Sirius now you’ll just freak him out, and I’m sure seeing Pansy teach Ron how to dance will make everyone feel better.”

Harry just stares at him. “You’re not telling me something. Actually, you’ve been surprisingly quiet about this whole thing. How are  _ you  _ feeling?”

Draco doesn’t respond. He leads them through the tunnels and thirty feet from the entrance he stops.

“I’m scared. But, you always make me scared. You’ve been giving me headaches and heart attacks since I was eleven, you know. You just...if you die we all have nothing. Do you get that?” Draco looks at him before looking away, staring at the wall. “You’re the hope of the wizarding world, Harry. Even if you don’t want to be. People don’t see you as a kid, they see you as some perfect hero. If you die now, they lose what hope they have left. And if Riddle does return with your death….if it doesn’t destroy them it would destroy us.” 

Draco’s voice goes so quiet Harry strains his ears to listen. “Hermione and Ron would go mental...Blaise might act a little distant but he and Pans care for their friends more than anyone I’ve ever met. And you’re their friend now, do you understand?” Draco looks back at him. “They would be devastated and I...I don’t know what I’d do. You think, with how many close calls you’ve had, that I would be used to it, but I’m not. I will never not be afraid when your life is in danger. If you die, we’re not just losing a hero, we’re losing someone important to our lives. Do you get that?”

Harry knows he shouldn’t, but they’re in the cover of darkness, in a tunnel where no one can see them or know what happens between them, so he pulls Draco in close and hugs him.

“I get it. I promise I won’t die, though. Not yet. Hermione would murder me if I died before I take my NEWTs.”

Draco chuckles against his chest, but when they pull away they both feel a little better. “Let’s go dance before someone figures out what huge saps we are.”

He still looks too sad for Harry’s comfort so the boy tries to think of something and comes up with pure stupidity. 

“ME? Harry Potter? A sap?! That’s more Draco Malfoy style, I’ll have you know.”

Draco gives him a weird look. But after a moment he says, “Please, Malfoys don’t have hearts, remember? They call you The Boy Who Lived but you’re really just The Giant Baby, huh?”

“I’ve never been a baby. I was actually born as a twenty-year-old war veteran.” Harry grins. 

Draco‘s smirk starts to return. “Well  _ I  _ was born a thirty year old spy.”

“That explains why your hair is near grey, you old man.”

“My hair is a fair blonde, your eye-sight must be worse than you think.”

“I’ll have you know I lost both my eyes in a vicious fight with a Phoenix.”

“Was that before or after you got that weird tattoo on your forehead?” Draco deadpans. 

“It’s symbolic of my lightning quick Seeker skills.” 

“Planning on being a professional Quidditch player after the war?”

“I’d be a sap not to.”

They bicker the whole way up to the Gang’s Room, where everyone is sitting around the fire watching Ron destroy Blaise in Wizard’s Chess. Harry doesn’t bother with a greeting. 

“Move the game board, saps! We’re dancing.”

“Dancing is a sap’s pastime,” Draco comments, barely holding back a laugh at Ron’s face.

Harry snorts, “Funny that you suggested it. Come one, Ron! We can’t let them beat us at dancing!”

“They haven’t even beaten us at Quidditch!” Ron counters, clearly confused and completely missing Blaise moving around pieces on the board.

“And that won’t start now!”

“Are the Snakes giving us dancing lessons?” Hermione asks.

Pansy’s the only one actually moving. “Apparently. Come on, Blaise-Bear. The sooner we get this over with the sooner we can go to bed.”

Getting Ron to give up his game is the hardest part, really. Hermione and Draco use their wands to clear the area and then Draco grabs her and spins her. “On the plus side dancing is a lot easier than Potions.”

“That’s easy for  _ you  _ to say!”

Hermione really isn’t all that bad. Across from them Pansy is leading Ron.

“You can take the lead when I’m positive you won’t squish my toes!”

“I’m not gonna step on your toes!” Ron protests, letting himself get spun and dipped. “You just like being in control!”

“I’m fixing your horrid robes! This is the  _ least  _ you can do for me!”

Harry snickers as he follows Blaise’s pace. He’s also keeping up fairly well, but Blaise is an excellent dancer, so it’s hard to look bad with him. Though Draco isn’t fond of how closely his friend is holding Harry.

They call it quits when Ron almost trips Pansy into the fire, since they’re all falling over laughing Draco feels like it’s safe enough to let everyone go for the night. At least now they’ll probably fall straight into bed without worrying themselves sick. 

Hopefully. 

Though the tight look on Harry’s face isn’t too reassuring….which gives him an idea…

It’s only a bit past midnight. If Winky is still up, he’s sure he can do something about the tight smiles his friends all have. If he can’t get it done tonight he can sure as hell figure it out over the weekend.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A few Slytherins trickle into the common room around seven Monday morning, but no one gives him a second glance until Millie comes in and sits herself down right beside Winky.

“What the hell are you doing? Have you been here all night?”

Yes, yes he has. Draco was planning on getting the buttons done on Saturday, but then he had to write his mother and tea with Severus went a little long because he was complaining about the Tournament and Draco had made the dumb decision to comment on the hair tie that was very obviously  _ not  _ his godfather’s. Watching Snape flustered and alarmed was funny as hell and almost made up for the homework Draco nearly fell behind. Spending the rest of Saturday’s evening and most of Sunday’s morning in the library with Fleur and Luna had been nice, but then lunch rolled around and Draco had just barely begun planning out his little side project. 

Panicking never helped anyone, so he returned to his room with Winky and LuLu in tow and worked until Blaise kicked him out because “If I’m not allowed to know what you’re doing then don’t do it in front of me.”

So, at roughly one in the morning, Draco and Winky set up shop in the common room with their basket and got to work.

On the plus side, if Draco’s calculations are right, he only has ten more buttons to go.

“What even are these?” Millie asks, seeming to realize Draco would not be answering any questions pertaining to his health at the moment. 

“Buttons.” Draco replies, adding the finishing touch to the one in his hand and tossing it in the basket.

They’re actually quite simple to make once he’s worked everything out. Winky melts the metal in a cauldron, transfigures the shape, and then cools it halfway so Draco can cast a few charms, transfigure the transformation, and then finish cooling it right as Winky hands him a new button. She’s also somehow found the time to bring him five cups of coffee throughout the night and he’s so,  _ so,  _ thankful his mother let him keep her.

“We is making them to support Hogwarts, Misses Bulstrode.” Winky comments as she hands him a new button. 

Millie laughs, Draco fights a smile. He still has nine buttons to make.

“He’s going to hate them.”

“Nonsense. You wanna cast cooling charms or go take a shower before the stalls fill up?”

Millie shoves him lightly, before reminding him to take one too and leaving. 

Draco’s just gotten down to two buttons when he’s interrupted again.

“You have an hour left before breakfast.” Pansy says. She kisses the top of his head, and then plops down beside him and burst into giggles.

The buttons, apparently, are a fucking hit. At first they seem innocent, just little circles they give a little Cedric propaganda, but then the image twists into an unflattering picture of Harry with the caption ‘Potter Stinks!’

“He’s going to love this.” Pans whispers.

“I know, right? I only have one left, and honestly this would have taken so much longer if Winky hadn’t helped up. She came up with the design, ya know.”

Winky beams at the praise, Pansy just smirks. “Well, you did a wonderful job, Winky. Did you make enough for the entire house?”

“Yep. Would you mind passing them out?”

Pansy’s smirk turns dark. “I’d fucking love to, but I was told by Millie to make sure you shower and eat. Have you even slept?”

Draco doesn’t say anything. Winky, the traitor, shakes her head. “I shall bring another coffee?”

“You’re my hero Winky.”

Thirty minutes later Draco exits his room freshly clean and proudly wearing his own Potter Stinks button and accepts a cup from his elf. He takes one sip and then smiles at her. She’s put not only caramel to lessen the bitterness of espresso, but a little Pepper Up too. Definitely his best investment ever. 

He’s tired, slightly cranky, and a little quiet through breakfast but the look on his Gryffindor’s faces in Care of Magical Creatures is fucking worth it. Harry has to literally bite his tongue to keep from laughing and when they meet in the Gang’s Room later that night, Hermione flicks his button.

“How did you make these? They’re brilliant!”

“You can say that all you want, Susan Bones has already asked me to make some for her house. I’ll be making them for the whole school at this point.”

“You should.” Fred chimes in. Draco’s gotten the twins differences down at this point. “I want one.”

“Me too!” Harry laughs. “Imagine the look on Dumbledore’s face when I wear this to the first task.”

“You’ll all have to help me and Winky make them.”

Hermione glares at him, “You made Winky help?!”

“She didn’t seem to mind-”

“That’s because you  _ forced  _ her! I’ve read up on house elves! They’re basically slave laborers! Have you any idea what-”

Ron pats her shoulder. “Maybe Draco and the others can explain since you won’t listen to me?”

Even Ginny is giving her a weird look. “I thought we went over this already, Hermione? Elves aren’t forced into work, they just-”

“If they’re not forced into work then why can’t they touch wands?!”

Draco shares a look with his fellow purebloods before sitting down. “Come on, then. Let me explain. If you want I can even call Winky here to talk to you.”

Hermione licks her lips, and then sits in the chair opposite to him. “You have three seconds before I rant at you.”

“Okay. Since you pointed out the wand issue, let me tell you why. When a house elf is bound to their master, they take a part of their master’s magic. It’s kinda like food to them. Before, in the olden days, they fed off of magic rivers and forests, but given human expansion, there aren’t many of those left. I took on Winky because I knew I could hold the bond until we made it back to the Manor. My home is surrounded by magic, as is Hogwarts, so it’s not actually dangerous for me. It was, however, dangerous for Winky to be dismissed by Crouch like he did. He was being a right bastard…”

Blaise steps up to help explain. “When a house elf is dismissed, especially one that’s been in the family for ages, it rips them of their, um, ‘food source’. Basically, with no magic, elves will die within a week. And since Crouch was accusing her of breaking the wand rule, no one else would take her.”

“Which brings us to the wand rule.” Pansy adds. “Back in the 1500s, when house elves had just become a thing, a wizard by the name of Bartholomew was abusing his elf and one day, when he wasn’t looking, the elf took his wand and stripped Bartholomew of all his magic.”

“Meaning the elf quite literally took everything from him, not that he didn't deserve it. No sane person likes to give our punishments, especially when there's blood involved...Anyways, elves don’t need wands to use magic. They can do more advanced things without a wand that having one more or less just gets in their way. Which is why the Wizard Court at the time put the wand rule into place, and it’s supposed to be followed even now. Granted, most elves would never imagine taking their master’s magic because it would leave them without food, but it’s still law.”

Hermione considers this, and then; “I still want to talk to her, Winky, I mean. But I’ll leave it for now. We have something a little more pressing to worry about.”

“What’s more important than your crusade against house elves?” Ron asks.

“Well, for starters. We still don’t know what the first task is, and I’d like to have Harry prepared for Friday.” 

Harry frowns. “And what does that mean?”

Hermione grins, his stomach sinks, and ten minutes later he finds himself in the library thinking about how much he hates death plots. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're on a roll. As always, comments and questions are appreciated and also as always please be safe and happy and donate/sign petitions if you can <3 love you all


	13. The First Task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco flushes and throws a ball of paper at her. “Don’t you have friends?!”
> 
> “Teasing you is much more fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did someone say greek mythology in wizard culture? wild.

Sure enough, by Tuesday afternoon Draco’s been approached by several people from different houses for one of the buttons. Gryffindors think it’s funny, Hufflepuffs wanna support Cedric, and the Ravenclaws think the buttons are simply brilliant. 

Severus had complained about them being distracting in class, partly because he had trouble looking not laughing at them, but he hadn’t taken any of them yet. Even the other schools were wanting one, Fleur in particular.

_“It is secretly in support of them, right? That Cedric kid is wonderful, and I think I’m growing rather fond of Harry.”_

Draco looks up from his mac and cheese, thankful once again for the seats between him and the others. _“Don’t you dare.”_ He whispers, _“That one is taken.”_

_“By who?”_

Draco doesn’t dignify that with an answer because he has a date. 

With the library. 

Again.

For obvious reasons like helping Harry figuring out what the fuck he’s going to face on Saturday, and ideas for his project. But also because Geia apparently thought adding a research topic to their list was fun. He’s somehow managed to rope Hermione in, and by that he told her about it in passing and she’s taken it as a personal challenge to find out everything she can. 

He spends the rest of Tuesday doing homework with Fleur popping in and out every now and then. Pansy’s somehow found time to start on her end of the year art portfolio, which means he’s had to listen to her worry about getting paint on her dress robe projects for one day and he’s already fed up with it. He kinda regrets getting her new paint supplies for her birthday.

Blaise refuses to step foot in a library with him unless it’s finals season or he has someone with him. Apparently he can only take so much of Study Draco, which is fair.

Currently, he has two tables pushed together and filled to the brim with books and papers. Fleur left when the books started piling above his head, or maybe that’s just because it’s nearing curfew and she’s just as freaked out about the first task as he is. Madam Pince comes over to kick him out, so he checks out _Hexes and How to Avoid them, Protective Charms for Idiots,_ and _Triwizard Tournament: A History,_ before vanishing the rest back with a sheepish smile.

He’s not surprised in the least to find Hermione outside with her arms piled high. There’s no one else in the hallway, but they don’t talk. Draco does, however, follow her back to the Gang’s Room. 

“Did you know that Basilisks in Greek Mythology are completely different than they are in European Mythology? The Greeks say they used to have wings and talons.”

“I did not know.” Draco replies, pushing the door shut. “Did you know that in the 1598 Triwizard Tournament all of the contestants but the champion died and the person who won ended up dying three days later from poison that was released during the final task?”

Hermione chokes. “No, no I did not know that.”

“On the plus side, in the one before this only the headmasters were injured.”

“And when was that?”

“1792.” Draco smiles. “Maybe they’ve gotten less dramatic since?”

“Have you seen Dumbledore’s clothes?! All of them look like they’ve walked off a bad TV series!”

At least he knows what that is this time, Harry had a full list of them he wasn’t allowed to watch. 

The next morning Draco’s studying once again, which annoys Fleur to no end.

_“Do you ever do anything fun?”_

_“Yes,”_ Draco doesn’t even look up from his book, _“Unfortunately, my family is now involved in a death competition.”_

_“And by that do you mean me or your little crush?”_

_“I haven’t had a crush since I was seven years old.”_

_“Ah, yes,”_ Fleur laughs, _“Ludo Bagman, if I remember correctly. You have a thing for Quidditch men.”_

Draco flushes and throws a ball of paper at her. “Don’t you have friends?!”

“Teasing you is much more fun.”

He is eventually saved from her antics by one of the Beauxbatons Boys, who are probably the prettiest men Draco’s ever seen. Thank Merlin he has class to distract him from all the other shit. And it’s Ancient Runes with his best friends and Hermione. He must be doing something right because Pansy only complains twice, which is a fucking miracle. 

Unfortunately, by dinner he still has no clue what the first task is, or what secret message Geia is trying to convey. Fleur isn’t there to save him from Pansy bitching about her dress, or Blaise bitching about his Death Garden at home suffering because the water system messed up and one of the repair-people stepped on a bush.

They’re on the way to the Gang’s Room for their weekly meeting when he spots Fleur coming towards him with red-rimmed eyes. 

_“Darling?”_ Draco starts towards her. _“What happened-”_

She grabs his arm and marches on, right out the front door and all the way down by the Green Houses before she stops and throws herself into his arms.

Draco has no fucking clue what to do here. Fleur is _crying,_ full on sobbing into his chest, and he’s only seen her cry while reading bad romance books. He gently rubs a hand down her back.

 _“What’s happened, love?”_ He asks softly, _“Did some fucker not take no for an answer? I’ll kill them and you know it.”_

Fleur laughs through her tears, and then pulls back with shaky hands. _“I found out what the first task is...Madam found out from this Hagrid person and immediately told me and...Draco I-I’m not sure-”_

 _“What is it?”_ Draco asks. His blood is running cold. If she’s scared he can’t imagine how Harry will react. Fleur doesn’t get scared.

Fleur wipes her cheeks. _“Dragons.”_

Draco is going to vomit. As soon as his heart starts working again he’s going to throw up all over her uniform. _“What?”_

_“They’re huge! And, and apparently we have to fight them and get some sort of egg and I don’t know how to fight a fucking dragon!”_

_“You don’t have to.”_ Merlin, he’s in no fucking spot to be giving advice right now. _“No one said you have to fight it. You just have to get around it. You’re a flyer, right? I know you wouldn’t pass up a chance to fly one of those carriages.”_

The tears fade from Fleur’s eyes. _“I could fly an armored carriage past it, grab the egg, and return safely...you’re a genius Draco!”_

As nice as that is, Harry is going to be facing a fucking Dragon in a few days and he doesn’t have a fucking carriage. 

Fleur gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then leaves him in the open still reeling. He stands there for a few minutes before he starts to return to the castle and bumps right into Ron.

“Draco? What are you doing out here?”

When Ron has to physically support him for a few seconds Draco realizes he might be overreacting. Just a little bit. “You okay, mate?”

“Oh, you know.” Draco manages, straightening out his robes. “You ever find out that one of your closest friends is gonna die as a Dragon treat?”

Ron pats his back. “So you found out what the first task is?”

“You knew?!”

“Just found out. I was as scared as you at first, but Charlie told me they keep them tame. His favorite is the Hungarian Horntail. Her name is Helga.”

Draco can’t do anything but laugh.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Pansy doesn’t find it near as funny.

“Helga...her name is Helga….do you think this is a fucking joke Roland? It doesn’t matter if you give Dragons _poison_ they can still _breathe fire_ you dipshit!”

“But it’s good that we know, isn’t it? Now we can prepare Harry!”

“Prepare?!” Hermione shouts. Blaise still isn’t functioning properly, and Draco can’t fault him for it. “He has _three days._ Okay? _Three fucking days!_ How the hell are we-”

“Well we’re not gonna do it by fighting, are we?” Harry yells over her. “And like, look, a Dragon named Helga can’t be as scary as Geia. Aren’t Dragons just giant snakes with wings?”

Draco locks eyes with Hermione. “Giant...giant snakes.” 

“With wings….”

“No.” Hermione starts. “No. _No._ That’s crazy, Draco. Even by our standards! We don’t even know if it’s true!”

“But we could still ask her. We don’t have a lot to go off of here! Anything that could work we need to use!”

“There’s no _guarantee!_ It could just be a fluke.”

“There’s also no issue with _asking!”_

Ron steps between them, “Um. Would you care to share with the class?”

The two glare at each other and then Draco sighs. “In Greek Mythology...Basilisks are more like Dragons than Snakes…”

“You think Geia could help?”

Hermione nods and that is apparently enough for Harry because the idiot grabs Draco’s hand and pulls him all the way to the Chamber.

“Does this not seem a little crazy to you? Because it’s weirdly convenient to me.”

“Most answers _are_ weirdly convenient.”

“You mean like a time tuner that’s been with us all along or a sword that literally appears out of nowhere?”

“Exactly like that.” Harry says to him, and then tells the door to open. Not even three seconds later and Harry is strolling in like he owns the place. All Draco can do is follow him in.

Geia hisses at them, something he doubts he’ll ever understand, but Harry gets it perfectly.

_“What are you doing here? It isn’t Friday yet.”_

_“Right, so you know the Tournament, right? The one that some unknown fucker is forcing me to participate in?”_

She’s definitely annoyed with him. _“You told me last time-”_

_“Right, so, apparently I’m facing dragons and I have no fucking idea what to do but Draco thought it’d be a good idea to come and talk to you because apparently Greek You looks like them and that makes absolutely no sense so if you’re in a good mood could I please get some answers? I really don’t want to die before we can fully heal you, hell I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and-”_

_“You have come to ask a question and yet you tell a story?”_

Harry pauses. _“You...you’re right. Sorry about that. Um…”_

They really need to get Geia one of Moody’s fake eyes so she can roll them. He deserves it at the moment. 

_“What would you like to know? You and your boyfriend have given me a clean home and comfort I haven’t known in years, answering a few questions is no trouble.”_

_“He’s not my boyfriend!”_ Harry says automatically, then he turns to Draco who is standing way too close for comfort and nods. _“Right. Um, I guess my first question is if you’re really part Dragon? And if you are, what happened to your wings and stuff? You don’t look like the picture of Greek you, but you have scars where the things are supposed to be so…”_

Geia sighs.

_“Take a seat, young one. Allow me to paint you a picture.”_

Harry plops down on the side of her big pillow, pulling Draco down with him. They end up lying side by side, Harry on his stomach so he can look Geia in her no-eyes, and Draco on his back staring at the ceiling.

_“What do you know of the Greeks, child?”_

_“Not much. I’m muggled-raised so it’s best to assume I’ve never heard of anything. Like ever.”_

Geia makes a noise that suspiciously sounds like a laugh. _“Very well. Shall I start from the beginning?”_

_“Yes please!”_

_“Very well.”_ She moves a bit, sliding over to give the boys a bit more room. _“I was born in the ancient days, back when magic ran the world, the forests and lakes promised to last forever, and the stars whispered secrets to those who would listen. Like you and every other, I too had a mother and a father. We were different from other snakes. In our life, my mother ruled our kingdom. She had glorious wings, large and deep blue. Her claws were sharper than my fathers, and her word was law. There were twenty of us. We didn’t need to mate often for our lines to succeed. As far as we knew, we were immortal. My parents never told me what life was like when they first opened their eyes, and I never asked. We lived in peace, kept to our own, never made enemies unless we had to. Much like our Dragon relatives, we were free. We could fight, yes, but we were not violent. Snakes never are.”_

In his head, Harry can see it clear as day. 

Fields of fresh flowers, giant snakes flying into purple nests up in the tops of trees that shine in the sunlight. Geia, young and half her size, chasing a blue dragon-looking snake through snow fields. The same snake, tall and dangerous, glistening wings like the night sky stretching out as she speaks to thousands of snakes before her. Geia flying with the dragons, taking baths in springs surrounded by glowing plants. Playing hide and seek with pixies and flying up to ask the trees if she could rest on their branches. 

Harry can _see_ the lights hang in the sky despite it being night, see the way trees glow, feel the softness of the grass on his skin, the rush of flight, the security of hanging in a purple-flower nest.

It’s wonderful, the world when magic was still alive.

_“Life was good for us until it was not.”_

The world in his mind dims a little.

Life fades out of the trees, the pixies fade, replaced by humans who scream and then become stone at the Blue Basilisk's word.

_“The pixies were the first to die out. Sprites were next, along with the souls of trees. Our dragon cousins went into hiding, the others of my kind slowly stopped coming back to our nest. Eventually my father became lost, and my mother took me and the rest to a cave deep in the mountains, where the magic was still strong.”_

He can hear water dripping, senses the despair of losing flight, but the joy of clear water on wings, sharpening talons on cave crystals, learning secrets by crystal light. But one by one, the snakes with wings dwindle. 

_“We had to get food every few years. And each time we lost someone. Eventually we had to send them out two at a time, someone to hunt and someone to guard. Before I knew it, I was the only one left.”_

An image of Geia, curled up on stones that are suddenly cold, water that freezes her wings, talons overgrown and aching. 

_“It was cold, but I was too scared to go out alone. I was the only one left, and if I died, there would be no one to remember us. My friends, my family, my home was all gone. I had nothing.”_

A warmth floods that dark dingy cave.

_“And then I met a young boy named Asklepios.”_

The boy is small, maybe eleven, wearing a toga with scuffed up knees and a staff in his hand. His hair is dark, his skin is tan, and his eyes widen at the sight of Geia.

_“He heard me talking to myself, apparently, and came to invest. When he saw how close to death I was, he told me not to go anywhere and returned with food. He said he could help, and that he’d never seen a snake with wings before. He asked if I was a dragon, and when I told him no he carried on conversation like it was normal, but I had never met a human, or a wizard before. He was so small...bigger than the pixies, but with their playfulness. Smaller than the trees, but with their kindness. He had the spirit of a spite and the bravery of my fellow Basilisks. He was also my first friend.”_

Images of Asklepios surge. The same small boy with a wicked smile, but taller than his staff now. A teenager with a freshly grown beard, sitting and talking with his hands.

_“As he aged into adulthood, he became obsessed with healing. His father, Apollo, was one of the few who figured out how to use owls as messengers. Humans hailed him as a god, and wizards and witches alike praised him for his safer ways of communication. Asklepios loved his father, so when Apollo was cursed, he threw himself into finding an answer.”_

The same man, bringing books with food, making his staff longer, talking by firelight. Older, thinner, worse.

_“He spent many nights reading medical books to me, explaining the differences between bodies of magic and bodies without, we shared stories and secrets like I had done with my own kin and one day, just like them, he disappeared too. I went looking for him, concerned that something had happened, but I was met with fear and hostile beings.”_

Witches, wizards, and humans surround her, try to rip her apart, scream and poke with knives. They can’t hear her pleading with them. And then, a familiar man stands in their way.

_“He called me his inspiration. Said I was the one to come up with his ideas, helped him heal, taught him the secrets to medicine. I did not, but they believed it. Asklepios put me on his staff, and they used me as a symbol of something good. Something pure. As a result, I was allowed to leave my cave. I had a home in his garden he built for me, his wife sat with me and told me stories of her day in the evenings. His friend, Medusa, would bring me her snakes that would bow to me and tell me information no one else knew.”_

She’s beautiful, Asklepios’s wife. Long hair, dressed in the same toga, but her wand tucked between folds and disguised as an olive branch. Medusa even more so, young, running around with snakes hanging off her hair and shoulders.

_“And then, just as suddenly as the forests died, the wizards were forced into hiding. Some wizard had committed a crime, and the rest of us magical creatures paid for it. Asklepios and his family died, and I did not know the truth about humans yet. I still believed them to be kind creatures. I hoped the fire my friends died in was an accident, but when men came and found me, I knew it was not.”_

Geia, out in the forest by a burning marble home, not sensing life, not smelling anything but ash and smoke. Something covers her face, snaps against her neck. He feels a burn on his back that’s so painful it makes him wither, and then the burn spreads and he collapses on the pillow.

_“They took my wings first, so that I couldn’t fly away. Next my arms and talons, so that I could not hurt them. I had never murdered then, never hurt a single human, and they took everything from me. After that, while I was still bleeding, instead of killing me, they threw me in the ocean. Water snakes and mermaids helped me then, driven to the deep blue by scared “muggles” with weapons. They found me a new cave, one I vowed to never leave.”_

Her new cave, dark, musty, a lot like the Chamber, but with more blood and less light.

_“I started killing any human that came my way. I’d give them a warning, of course. It’s not my fault that they didn’t listen. And then I met a Potter.”_

Harry straightens, watching in his mind as wavy dark curls come bounding in, demanding Geia stop threatening her and be quiet, only to turn and get angry.

_“Her name was Anvi Potter, and she was the most willful woman I’d ever met. Fierce, strong minded, and outraged at my current state. She told me to behave, and I was so taken aback by her actions that I tried to bite her, and she snapped down my jaw and flicked her wand over the wounds on my back. The relief was instant…and when I realized what she’d done, I let her in. She was so different from Asklepios, never shy or quiet. Her magic was just as strong as his, but she was never afraid to hurt someone, never afraid of anything. She was both a healer and a fighter. She rode Dragons, healed me, had connections with the mermaids that led her to me. For as long as I knew them, the Potters fought for what they considered right. They were descendants of Medusa, like most of the great families, they were connected to the ancient magic. They stuck close to each other, and only after introducing me to her family did she call me her friend.”_

A whole group of them, wild hair, big smiles, golden eyes. They look so happy and Harry can’t help but choke. His ancestors. These are his family….

_“She never asked me to leave, but she made the cave better. Sometimes the family would visit together, bring food, have the mermaids and the snakes keep me company, clean the cave and force me to help. It was wonderful, but then Anvi died, and her daughter married a British man. She begged me to come with her, but I knew it wouldn’t be safe. So I asked the mermaids to take me to British waters, and they did. But I was too late. I had no idea where she was, and I had left my home and once again had nothing. So I found a new cave, one by a mansion and a young boy named Salazar.”_

Salazar Slytherin looks nothing like what Harry has imagined. Because surely, the man has been a mean, elitist, old asshole his entire life. He has no business looking young and playful, with black hair in a ponytail, dirt on his green suit, and a white marble wand tucked into flawless pants.

_“He was neither Asklepios or Anvi, nor like any of the others I had known, but he adored magic. He saw it, and creatures like me, as sacred. Salazar treated me with respect and as he grew older, a friend. He had no one, and I didn’t either. Two lonesome souls, finding solace in each other. He came to me with everything, when his parents told him of an arranged marriage, when he feared for bloodlines, when Godric started fights, when Rowena forced him to help with the Tournament, when Helga came to him with the idea of a school. I knew more about the inner workings of his mind than any historian ever will. Salazar built me this home, and before he left he told me never to leave. That it wasn’t safe, and that someone would always be around to help me.”_

This Salazar he knows, the man is old and mean, looks every bit the blood purist Hermione complains about. Emerald robes, long white hair, a beard that puts Dumbledore to shame. 

_“I didn’t believe him, but during his time away I found truths. Humans are complex, child, you must understand that. Every single one of them has a weakness. Every single one of them starts pure until fear and hatred works their way into their lives. Very few are born evil. And it was at the time of my discovery that I met Tom Riddle. I will not tell you of him, for you know more than I on the matter. I knew Riddle as a boy, and now I know him as a true monster. Truly, I thought no one would come and find me, and that I would die and finally be with my forgotten souls, but you, Harry Potter….”_

Geia lowers her head fully onto the pillow, if her eyes were open Harry would be staring straight into them.

_“You have given me a new hope. You and your boy, you both are so different and so alike. You have come into my home, cleaned me up, and brought back memories that I thought no longer mattered. For this I am eternally grateful, and I will teach you the secret of Dragons. So that you can remember me, know me not as a monster, but as Geia. So that you do not leave him alone as I have been left. So that you may return to me, teach me the new secrets of the world.”_

Harry has a weird urge to hug her. His arms would never fit around her neck, she’s way too big for it anyways, but he still reaches out and pats her nose. 

Beside him, Draco’s dead asleep, curled up on his side. His hair fans out in the most beautiful way, his head is practically on Harry’s arm, and since Draco’s probably not waking up any time soon, he won’t be going anywhere for a long time. So he gets comfortable, takes a second to brush a stray strand of hair behind Draco’s ear, and turns back to his new friend.

The snake his ancestors knew. 

He makes a mental note to look into that as soon as the first task is over, but in the meantime…

_“I would be honored to be your friend.”_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco wakes up with something warm beside him, he’s so comfortable, and he can hear running water so he should probably get up if Blaise is already in the shower. He opens one eye, expecting to find LuLu curled up next to him, but instead he finds himself face to face with a mop of black hair and a snoring Harry.

His heart makes a funny thump in his chest and he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Before he can do anything stupid like kiss him, or play with his hair, or snuggle closer like an _idiot_ he pulls out his wand and casts a quick _tempus._

Then he sits up straight, dragging Harry with him and nearly screams when Geia’s head pops up from the water. 

“Wha?” Harry rubs at his eyes, “Wut ‘re you doing?”

“Harry!” Draco grabs his face. “Harry we need to go! It’s nearly eight!”

His cheeks look so cute squished between Draco’s hands. “So?”

“So, people will know we haven’t been back! Do you _want_ to get caught in the halls together?”

“Sure.” Harry mumbles back, but then Geia hisses something from the pool and his eyes open. “OH wait. Oh-” Red flourishes on his cheeks and here Draco was thinking his eyes couldn’t get any greener. “Hello, um, good morning, I guess.”

“Good morning.” Draco chuckles. He pulls them both upright, dusts off his robes. “We do need to get going.”

Harry grins at him, and then waves to Geia, speaking in something that doesn’t really sound like hissing, but Draco can’t understand it so he guesses it’s fine. They lock the door behind them and are almost to the bathroom where they’ll have to part ways when Harry stops him.

“So last night...while you were sleeping...guess what I did.”

“Hopefully found out how the hell to fight a dragon?”

“It’s better than that. I learned how to _talk_ to them.”

Draco nearly trips over the same pile of skulls they always forget to clean up. “Excuse me?!”

“Isn’t it cool!” Harry grins, still walking like speaking to a beast will keep it from killing him. Maybe if Draco ties him to a chair the Goblet won’t kill him and he can spend the entire Tournament getting yelled at. 

“Cool?!” Draco struggles to catch up to him, the little bastard is already at the bathroom entrance. “How is that cool? How is that _useful?!”_

“Because I can talk to them! Geia said to mention her name and it should help, though I also have to do this weird bow thing to show respect, there’s a spell, don’t worry.”

Draco’s five seconds from punching him. “How-you-fucking-”

“Don’t be like that! You’ll ruin your breakfast if you’re in a bad mood.” Harry grins, stepping closer to the door. “Bye, Draco!”

“Don’t you dare walk out that- _Harry!”_

But Harry is gone. And Draco is standing in the bathroom with a giggling Myrtle, a headache, and a need to fucking shower. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The first thing he does is take a well deserved shower. He kinda smells like snake, and Draco, plus he really needs something to wake him up. Just because Draco slept through most of the night doesn’t mean Harry did. Of course, he gets out of the shower right as the others are heading down to breakfast, which means Ron teases him and Seamus and Dean don’t fully get the joke but laugh anyways. Neville just looks tired, so at least he has that going for him.

The second thing on his master list is to get some fucking food. Staying up learning a semi-new language makes a growing boy tired, so after a few sausages and some weird looks from Hermione, Harry is fully prepared to begin his plan. And then a giant, pissy-looking owl drops a note on his plate.

_Fireplace. Tonight. One hour before curfew._

There’s no name, but he recognizes Remus’s handwriting. Not a good sign. Remus and Sirius _always_ say more. Like “be safe or else” at the bare minimum. They're definitely pissed, but Harry has at least eight hours before he has to worry about that.

For now, he has to find the other champions.

A problem, because he can’t find any of them. Or at least, he _couldn’t_ find any of them, until he runs smack into Fleur on the way to charms.

“I am so sorry-hey!” Harry smiles up at her offended face. “I’ve been looking for you!”

Hermione and Ron are both seconds away from a heart attack, he’s sure, but he waves them on and smiles at Fleur again. At least this time she’s slightly amused and not dead-seat on hitting him. 

“You have been looking for me?”

“Yes!” Harry looks around the hall, students stop and stare. It’s not hard to imagine why. Fleur is very attractive. “But not here. Sorry, I know this is weird, but-”

She’s already pulling him to the side, away from prying eyes and listening ears. “What is it? You will be late for class if you do not hurry.”

“Please. Hermione would kill me.” Fleur’s eyebrows shoot into her perfect hairline so he quickly continues. “Anyways, um, I just….” He lowers his voice. “I found out what the first task is…”

Fleur blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. Then she chuckles. “Yes, dragons, I know. I’ve already come up with a-” Her eyes widen. “You need a plan, ‘Arry! You are a child! If you do not have a plan you will die and-”

“I have a plan!” Harry raises his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry, I definitely have a plan. I was coming to make sure _you_ have a plan.”

He’s left with a blinking Fleur all over again. “You..you came to make sure _I_ was going to be okay?”

“Yes? I know we’re supposed to be competitors or whatever, but I didn’t like the idea of the others not knowing, ya know? It’s not fair if one person knows and the others don’t. Anyways, since you’re good and all, I really should be getting to class. See you tomorrow!”

Harry barely makes it in the door before the bell rings, and he completely misses how Fleur stares after him with surprised eyes and a small smile. 

He spots Krum as he’s heading to lunch, stopping mid-conversation about anti-fire charms to shout “Krum! Hey! Krum!”

Harry goes jogging to him, but Krum just waves off his fellow Durmstrangs and walks calmly until they meet.

“Hello, Harry.” No need to sound so suspicious, but Krum does. Harry looks around them, sees that no one is really paying attention, and leans closer. 

“Hey, so, I know what the first task is. We’re gonna be facing dragons and-”

“Yes, I am aware.” Krum looks just as startled as Fleur, which is weird since they both know. “I thought it was common knowledge that people always cheat in these types of things?”

Harry stares at him, and Krum seems to realize in that moment that he’s never really _cheated_ before, so he puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder and whispers “Look, a word of advice since you tried to help me, take a general antidote and wear fireproof underwear.”

Then he leaves Harry standing in the middle of the hallway right as Ron catches up to him.

“What was that about?”

“Honestly, I wish I knew. Though fireproof underwear does sound like a good investment.”

Ron gives him a look. “I’m too hungry to deal with this right now, let’s go.”

“But my underwear-“

“I’ll get you some for Christmas if you make it past the first task.”

He finds Cedric right before dinner.

Or, really, Cedric finds _him._

“Harry!” 

Harry turns to see him and his girlfriend, Cho, walking towards him. They both look a little dead inside, like they haven’t slept in a few days, but Cho looks three seconds away from screaming. 

She waves, Cedric kisses her on the cheek and closes the distance between them and Harry decides then and there that Cedric deserves the title of Hogwarts Champion not only because he’s kind, charming, funny, and smart, but because Cho might murder someone if her boyfriend dies. 

“It’s dragons.’ Harry whispers the second Cedric is close enough.

Cedric, apparently, was the only one that _didn’t_ know.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Dragons. We’re facing dragons.”

Cedric takes a deep breath and then pulls him to the side entrance of the Great Hall. “What the _fuck?!”_

“I know, right! I had the same reaction, but look, I’ve been looking into it, and we don’t have to _fight_ them, we just have to get around them.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to do that?” Cedric seethes.

Harry has a sudden bright idea. Draco is going to kill him for this, literally murder him right before Hermione can get close enough, but it’s worth it. “I’ll give you my broom. It’s the fastest in the whole school, and I’ve seen you fly. You should be able to get around your dragon if you fireproof it. I was told something about antidotes and dragon-proof clothes?”

That actually gets a laugh out of the shaken up boy, but then Cedric’s brows furrow. “Wait a second. If I have _your_ broom, how are _you_ going to make it? I can’t take it from you, Harry. You need it more and I-”

“I have a different plan.” Harry smiles. “I won’t even need a broom. I can’t say a lot, but it’s going to be showy and a big ‘fuck you’ to the whole competition. If you take the broom, you’ll probably get done before the others, and I fully plan on taking as long as possible, so don’t worry about it.”

“Why are you doing this? Don’t you want to win?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to blink. “Look, if I win this, I won’t be winning it for Hogwarts. I’ll be winning it for whatever fucker forced me into this mess, and I don’t plan on giving the asshole the satisfaction. _You_ are the rightful Hogwarts Champion. _You_ deserve to win this, I don’t even _want_ to compete. Support Cedric, Potter Stinks, okay?”

Cedric takes a second to consider this, and then grins at him. “You’re a good person, Harry.”

And he knows, of course he does. Bad things rarely happen to bad people, Uncle Vernon taught him that. His parents were good people, and they died. Sirius is a good person, and he spent twelve years in Azkaban. Remus is a good person, and he got bitten by a werewolf. 

His friends are all good people, and look at the mess that gets them into.

The mess of making ‘Potter Stinks’ badges for all of Hogwarts in the Gang’s Room. They had to leave dinner early for this. 

“I agree with Draco, Harry. Just talking to a dragon isn’t going to save you, it’s going to get you fucking killed!”

“No it’s not! Harry whines back. They’ve been arguing for the past hour about it. Ginny, Millie, and the twins are the resident welders for the evening, churning out dozens of buttons within minutes thanks to whatever spell Draco used. Hermione, Pansy, Draco, and Blaise charm and transfigure the metal. Ron, Harry, and Luna are stuck on cooling duty.

“We think it’s cool!” Fred chimes in. Pansy glares at him.

“It’s not _cool,_ it’s _stupid._ And you’ll realize this tomorrow when Harry ends up being dinner for dragons.”

“I mean, there are more boring ways to die.”

Draco hits his arm _again,_ before drilling him with more Fun Facts about how he’s probably going to die. Harry doesn’t understand why they all have so little faith in him. He’s survived worse, a dragon seems fun. It’s at least new.

Plus he’s so excited to see their faces when he casually performs an ancient ritual that was supposed to be forgotten years ago. Hermione will be thrilled then. 

“What did Geia tell you anyways? She was talking for hours.”

Harry grins, latching on to the new topic because if he can’t impress his friends with his plan, he can at least amaze them with Geia.

“Did you say Asklepios, like _the_ Asklepios?!”

“Um, yes? But I feel like my relatives were more important-”

 _“Harry!”_ At least Hermione is finally not yelling at him. “Asklepios was the Greek wizard who came up with modern medicine! He was a genius! Without him we wouldn’t have any of our healing charms, even the ones for common colds! His work was amazing!”

“And?” Harry rolls his eyes, “My ancestors still feel a bit more important.”

Hermione has the decency to look guilty. “Yes. Well, I mean, they _are_ of course.”

Luna finishes her button, there are only twenty more to go and it’s only nine. Sirius will be calling soon. “Do you want to know more about them, Harry?”

“Of course I do! I don’t know anything about them, I barely know anything about my father!”

“Okay.” Luna says with a smile, and that doesn’t give him the greatest feeling. Luna is cool and all, but sometimes Harry feels like she knows more than she’s supposed to. It’s a little frightening if he’s honest.

They finish the buttons with their own, Harry makes sure his is the biggest, and then lets the Slytherins and Hermione charm clothing that he brought with him. Hermione is the only one allowed to touch his underwear, and yes, he does make her hide in the corner so no one else can see it. 

Blaise and the Weasleys only make fun of him a little bit.

At the end of the night Harry hugs each of them and sends them on their way. No one questions why Draco stays. Not even a full minute after the door shuts and Sirius is calling his name

“Harry James Potter! Are you _trying_ to make me go bald?!”

“Sirius-”

“A _death competition?! Really?!”_

“Babe-”

“Was the Basilisk not enough?!”

“Honey-”

“If you die I will ground you! Do you understand me?! _Ground_ you!”

“Sirius! Shut up!”

Harry’s more than confused. After all, he doesn’t even live with them, Dumbledore said he couldn’t. And he knows Remus’s voice, but the one that told his god father to shut it isn’t Remus. In fact he doesn’t think he’s ever heard that voice.

Draco has though.

He nearly falls into the fire, “Mum?!”

“Mum?” 

Oh fuck.

Narcissa’s face, the one he’s only seen in photographs, pops up into the fire with a smile. “Hello, darling. And Mister Potter, it is a pleasure to meet you, though I do wish it was under better circumstances.”

Sirius is yelling again, but Harry’s a little too struck to do anything but mumble an awkward ‘hello’. 

“What are you doing here?!” Draco finally shouts over his cousin.

Narcissa rolls her eyes, “Sirius- _shut up!-_ told me he’d be calling tonight, and I wanted to give as much advice as I could. These games are a very real threat, it is rare for all contestants to leave the final arena, and since Mister Potter is a rather….important person..... I find it imperative that he is fully prepared.”

“Please, Mrs. Malfoy, call me Harry. And don’t worry, that includes you Sirius. I totally have the dragon issue covered.”

All three of the adults freeze, Draco rubs his temple. “You do _not!_ You’re plan is stupid and reckless and-”

 _“Dragons?!”_ Sirius screams.

“Like _real life_ dragons?!” Remus echoes.

Narcissa is the only one not losing it. She silences the men with her and begins telling Harry things he never thought he’d hear from her.

“Okay. Dragons. We’re dealing with dragons, and since you’re rather calm about it, I assume you think you have a good plan. However, I tend to agree with my son on most things, so allow me to give you a bit of advice. If you haven’t already, charm your undergarments. All of them, even your glasses. You’ll want not just heatproof, but water and ice proof as well. Dragons are more than just fire, you know. If you’re not given armor (“He _better have armor!”)_ there’s a simple charm to make regular clothes tough.” 

She guides him through things Harry kinda already knows. Dragons are big, dangerous, and sometimes assholes. It’s best to get in and out as quick as possible, stay away from their tails and faces, don’t show weapons until the last second. Do not. Absolutely _do not_ get killed. 

So basically, what Hermione and Draco have been yelling at him since they found out without any of the information Geia showed him. 

They apparently don’t view dragons in the same way. 

Geia told him that yes, Dragons are fierce creatures but they _have_ to be. Even in the old days, they were hunted and stolen from. But when they aren’t defending their own, they’re surprisingly funny. Loyal, kind, and willing to die for their friends. Harry’s looking forward to meeting _that_ type of dragon. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Any hope leaves him the second he makes his way down to the arena and a blonde woman nearly yanks his arm off. 

“Harry Potter! How lovely to meet you! I know the competition will be staring soon, but you’re the only one I haven’t interviewed! I need a few words for my paper, you see, and since-“

Harry tries to dislodge his arm. He really makes a few token attempts, but this woman has a grip of steel not even Hermione can save him from. 

“Um, I’m kinda busy and I don’t know who you are so..“

“Don’t know who I am?! Why that’s a travesty! I am the one, the only-“

“Rita Seeker.” 

The voice comes from behind her and Harry finds himself looking from one annoying blonde to one annoyed blonde. Fleur looms tall over Seeker, stepping forward with Cedric and Krum on either side of her. Both of the boys look a little pissed, and anyone who can make _Cedric_ pissed naturally makes Harry warry. 

“If it isn’t the champions!” Seeker gleams in her sly, sticky voice. Something awful lurks behind her smile, Harry hopes it’s just what she had for breakfast. 

“Have you not wreaked enough havoc?” Fleur asks. “I have no idea where you got my personal information, but I assure you, you will regret exposing it.”

“How very common for a Veela.” Seeker smiles. Harry kinda wants to punch her. “And you? Krum? Are you angry as well? I tried to paint you as a flattering young man, despite your school’s reputation.” 

Krum looks like he’s debating spitting on her. She turns her ugly notebook to Cedric. 

“Mister Cedric! How lovely to see you again, perhaps you can answer my question? How _does_ it feel to be Hogwarts’ second choice?”

Oh hell no.

Harry’s stepping forward before Hermione or Ron can pull him back. He stands with the champions, glaring at the asshole with a gleam in her eyes.

“These people behind me are the champions, do you get it? Not me. They worked hard to _earn_ their titles, they _deserve_ to step on that field and be held to a standard so high you can’t even imagine it. Fleur Delacour is an _amazing_ woman. She is _fierce_ and _kind_ , she does not stand for inequality and will face anything she encounters head on. Viktor Krum is more than a Quidditch hero, he is a _student,_ a _friend,_ and more _charming_ than anything you can ever say about him. He and his fellow Durmstrang students are just as brilliant as those who go to Hogwarts. And Cedric Diggory never _has_ and never _will_ be Hogwarts’ second choice. He is _loyal, brave,_ and more of a wizard than you can hope to be.” Harry points to himself.

“I am the second choice here, understand? I was not supposed to be apart of this, and I refuse to sit here and listen to you degrade the true champions for an article. You want a few words for your paper? Think of them by yourself. The champions have a competition to win, and I have to be there to support them.”

He turns on his heel, a dramatic show he learned from Draco, and marches the champions away. Hermione bumps into Seeker’s shoulder as she joins them, even Ron is smiling.

“You are here to support us?” Fleur laughs, “I think that will make headlines, no?”

Krum grins, “I hope her face makes headlines. What an awful woman.”

“You can say that again,” Cedric sighs, “But Harry...we’re all lumped into this, okay? You’re competing just as much as we are.”

“No I’m not.” Harry says before Hermione or worse, Ron, can tell him otherwise. “My goal here is to not die. I don’t want, or need to win. That’s your job.”

They don’t say anything, but Harry gets the feeling they won’t take well to the ‘Potter Stinks’ badge shining on his back. He just hopes Seeker got a good picture of it. It’s the only thing he wants in the headlines, thank you very much.

Ron and Hermione bid him goodbye at the tents, with them is a weird three headed snake patronus that wraps around him in a weird three-headed hug before vanishing. Draco’s apparently just as worried as he predicted.

And when Harry sees his outfit, he all but screams in frustration. No wonder Seeker thought Cedric was a second choice.

“I’m not wearing this.”

“Yes you are.” Fleur says. She’s dressed slightly different, her ‘armor’ a pale blue and white body suit that hugs in all the right places. The Beauxbatons crest rests right above her heart. She looks every bit a warrior, but Harry’s suit just looks cheap. 

“No I’m not. I need-do any of you know how to fix clothing?”

“Why would we know that?” Krum asks. He also looks like a fighter, dressed in an all black suit, Durmstrang symbol the only color on him. Harry wonders briefly if it chaffs as badly as he thinks it will, and then Cedric emerges from behind a sheet and that settles it.

No why in Godric’s great name is he letting Cedric walk out in all yellow while he’s in all red. No, no, _no._ Just. _No._ This isn’t some house competition. It’s a death competition. And he’s not going out knowing that Cedric might be remembered as the Hufflepuff, you know, Hogwarts’ Second Choice.

Over his dead, decaying, _rotting_ body.

And if Draco can make his patronus give Harry a hug, Harry can use his to summon someone he _knows_ can help. He steps back from the others, holding his wand high. There’s a moment where all of their eyes widen, but then he thinks of Geia’s story, falling asleep next to Draco, Sirius and Remus smiling through the fire, Ron and Hermione laughing with him in the common room.

One _expecto patronum_ later and his stag appears. For some weird reason, the others look at him funny. Oh well, he can worry about that later.

“Hi.” He says to the stag. “Can you, um, do me a favor? I need you to go find Pan- _Pretty._ You know the person I’m talking about. Tell her it’s an emergency.”

Harry swears his stag rolls it’s eyes, but five minutes later Pansy is storming into the tent.

“Potter! What the _hell_ are you thinking? Sending a giant stag to come and get me?! Have you lost your bloody mind? Have you any idea what type of _scene_ you nearly caused?! You’re lucky no one around but Blaise and Draco and-oh. Hello.” 

For a moment Harry thinks she is actually going to bow to the others, but she just turns her full glare on him. “This better be good.”

“It is!” Harry holds his outfit out to her. “Look at this! It’s like they’re trying to make me a champion! And look at Cedric! He looks like a walking Hufflepuff sign! No offense, Cedric, but _Parkinson!_ Don’t you think the Hogwarts Champion deserves better?”

A wicked smile comes over Pansy’s face. She snatches Harry’s robes, marches up to Cedric and demands his too. There’s a bit of an awkward pause and then Cedric disappears behind the curtain again. Fleur doesn’t seem confused in the least, which is strange because Krum definitely thinks he’s a few screws loose.

“Fleur! Look at you! You look amazing!”

“Thank you, darling.” Fleur smiles, “But I have to ask, what are you going to do with the boys’ garments?”

Pansy smirks. “Oh, I have a few ideas.”

Harry wonders if he might regret this, but then Cedric is tossing his suit over the curtains and Pansy pulls out her wand. It’s remarkable what she can do in a few minutes. If she can change Hufflepuff yellow into a Hogwarts suit, complete with a giant fearsome beaver on the back and the Hogwarts’ chest over the heart in five minutes, Harry has no doubts that her Yule Ball dress is going to blow him away.

Literally.

Pansy throws Cedric’s robes over the curtain, where Harry can hear the boy laughing at the whole situation, and then sets to work on his. 

“Not to tell you what you're doing, but do you think you could have my logo on the back?”

“Like I wasn’t going to do that in the first place.”

Sure enough, he’s handed back a suit that’s a plain khaki color, with no school attached to it. On the back, written in Slytherin green is ‘Potter Stinks!’ and that is a suit Harry will wear with pride. 

Not what he’d like to die in, but beggars can’t be choosers, and Pansy is already marching back out of the tent so he’ll take it.

Needless to say, it’s not what Charlie was expecting. 

He comes in with a box that he nearly drops when he sees them.

“I see you changed your suits…”

Harry grins. “It suits me, doesn’t it? I mean this khaki just does something for my ego-and look! I have my own logo!”

One quick turn later and Charlie is laughing. “I take it you aren’t fond of the competition?”

“Not in the slightest!” Harry beams.

Charlie introduces himself to the others, explains that baby versions of the real dragons are going to be chosen from the box. Naturally Harry ends up with the most dangerous, the Hungarian Horntail. At least he knows her name.

The worst part about being in the competition is not being able to watch the competition. He wants to know what the others are doing, but he can’t because watching them is apparently cheating, and apparently you can’t do that in plain sight, no matter what Krum says.

There’s a lot of roaring, screaming and cheering from the crowd and then finally, _finally,_ it’s Harry’s turn.

He’s so fucking excited.

The crowd, however, is not. And that just makes him smile.

He can see the badges on every Hogwarts kid from the stands, and because Seeker pissed him off, he turns around and shows his back to the crowd. It’s hopefully the only time they’ll cheer for him. 

And then a gate opens and his dragon is released.

Narcissa was right. 

Dragons _are_ huge.

Helga comes out angry, cursing and speaking so fast Harry has trouble catching up with her. But when she spots him there’s no question about what she was saying.

She was declaring that he would be her lunch, and Fred bet twenty gallons that he wouldn’t die until the last task, so he can’t really do that yet. 

Harry stands his ground, waits until she’s twenty feet away from her and then whispers 

_Aš esu tavo draugas. I am your friend._

Helga halts, her wings blowing air into his hair, but Harry’s a little busy bowing to care.

_Klausyk ir girdi mane. Listen and hear me._

_Aš esu tavo draugas. I am your friend._

He images Anvi, bowing in the same way, long curly hair in the dirt, and feels stronger. He can do this.

With his nose nearly touching the ground he says _“My name is Harry Potter. I am friend to_ _Uγεία_ _, the Serpent King. Descendant of Anvi Potter, friend of Dragons. Listen and hear me, I am your friend.”_

The stillness of Helga echoes throughout the stadium, and then the dragon roars. _“My friend? You dare call yourself my friend after what you have done? You are no friend to dragons! You are here to steal from me! You have already taken one my children- mine! I will not let you near my others! Your kind steal me from my home! Take me away from my family, and then take my family away from me! How dare you call yourself my friend!”_

Okay, so he seriously needs to have an in depth conversation with Charlie when this is all over. Stealing children is never an okay thing to do, dragon or not.

_“I have stolen nothing from you, nor do I intend to take what is yours, least of all your children. To separate a child from its mother is evil in its rawest form.”_

_“Liar! You will do what your friends have done! You will steal my egg-my child!”_

Oh. That’s the issue, well, the issue aside the other issues. Seriously, what is it with wizards and the poor treatment of awesome things?

_“The egg my friends and I have gathered is not a real egg. It is fake, not even of pure gold.”_

_“How do you expect me to believe you?”_

Harry considers this, wondering how Anvi would have responded, if she ever had this issue. Probably not. He can’t imagine her trying to take a dragon’s egg. 

_“I am here, with my face to the ground and my wand undrawn. I speak you language and pose no threat. Listen and hear me, I am your friend.”_

Helga’s wing pick up speed, but she doesn’t come closer. Harry wonders if this means something.

_“You will climb on my back and I will take you to my nest, like a true friend of dragons. If you betray me, or take what is mine, I will kill you and everyone who thinks they are protected from me. Do you comprehend, Speaker?”_

_“Yes. As I have said, I am your friend.”_

The dragon huffs at that. _“Raise your head, or do you intend to climb me with your nose in the dirt?”_

She makes a fair point, so Harry stands, ignores the gasps coming from the crowd, and casually climbs on top of his sassy not-exactly-friend that can and will kill him if he makes a mistake. Except it’s not so casual and he does have to fucking climb her like one of those rock walls Dudley talked about after one of his birthday parties.

Helga raises her head and Harry is suddenly eye level with the judges. He winks at Dumbledore, and the Helga takes flight.

It’s _fucking amazing._ Like, he can never ride a broom again after this. There’s nothing like it, flying with no saddle, on the back of kind of pointy scales that do hurt a little, feeling the wind in his hair. He has an odd urge to laugh so he does.

_“This is amazing!”_

_“Fortunately, the ride is over. Show me this Fake Egg you speak of.”_

Harry, thoroughly disappointed that the stadium isn’t bigger, slides off her neck and into the nest. The eggs are almost his size, which means he can easily avoid them and find the little golden wannabe tucked in the middle. He grabs it and turns, holding it out so she can sniff it.

_“This is the egg. Smaller than yours, made not of gold but of magic for a game. We have not been stealing from the dragons, listen and hear me. I am your friend.”_

Helga does not look the least bit like a friend at the moment.

As a matter of fact, she looks fucking furious. Like Draco when Harry nearly dies furious. It’s not a comforting sight, but at least he gets why Narcissa named his crush after a dragon now.

 _“They have tampered with my eggs?!”_ She roars, swishing her head to the judges. _“How dare they!”_

She lunges for them, right as Harry makes the connection.

Oh shit. 

He doesn’t really think before he does it. Just pulls out a wand, casts a voice-enhancing spell the Gryffindors use during Quidditch matches to scream louder, and says _“Stop! Do not give them reason to harm you! I know you are angry, but your eggs are safe! If you harm them, there is no telling what might happen to you! Charlie will not let harm come to your eggs, but you mustn't let yourself be taken from your family again! Hurting them will only beg that to happen don’t you see?!”_

Helga turns to him in her fury and decides he really is her target so Harry makes what might be the dumbest decision in his long list of them. He waits until the moment is right and then jumps, the golden egg tucked securely in his left arm while his right arm reaches out. He grabs onto one of her scales, barely making it to her neck before she’s aiming for the sky.

_“Get off of me! Traitor! You call yourself my friend and aid those who harmed my kin! You are no friend of dragons!”_

Well, he might not live up to Anvi, but he can definitely picture her holding on for dear life as an angry dragon tries to fly away.

_“We have not harmed your kin! Your eggs are safe! Your children are safe! Charlie will not let harm come to them! It is you who would kill first! Taking their lives would mean throwing your own away!”_

Helga does not give a single shit. She flies against her chains, reaching the top of the stadium and then Harry hears a distinct loud snapping noise and whimpers. 

The dragon flies past the stadium. Harry wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into now.

 _“Listen to me!”_ He screams, really hoping his friends did something dramatic like pass out the second he bowed to her so they can’t yell at him later, _“Helga! Listen!”_

The dragon’s flight calms. 

_“My mother was taken from me.”_

The dragon stills, wings flapping to keep them high in the sky. Harry can barely make out the tops of trees. 

_“She stood up to a man who tried to harm me, and because of that I was beaten and treated like scum for eleven years. I know what happens to children to lose their families. I did not mean to insult you, or offend you, but I can not watch you be harmed for taking an innocent life. Yes, what the judges did was stupid, but they would not harm you or your eggs without cause. Attacking them is all they need, and not even Charlie could save you from your fate then.”_

Helga stays unmoving for a long time, and then _“Charlie….he is the one to call me Helga. He sneaks me goats when no one is looking…”_

_“He is my friend.”_

_“He is a true friend to dragons….”_

Slowly, like so slowly Harry almost feels like he’s floating, Helga makes her decent.

When her feet touch the stadium ground, no one, not even the judges are moving. Harry slides off her neck and moves to bow before her once again.

 _“Thank you.”_ Is all he can think to say before he’s rising and meets her golden eyes. He panics for a second, wondering if he stood too quickly, but then Helga bows her head to him.

_“You are a strange wizard, Harry Potter. Much like your ancestor, Anvi you called her? We dragons do not speak highly of humans, but it seems we always make the exception for you and yours.”_

_“Thank you.”_ He says again, and then tacks on _“Helga.”_ because just saying ‘thanks’ doesn’t feel like enough.

Helga raises her head. _“My name, young Potter, is Auksas. When we meet again, I hope you are a closer friend to dragons.”_

Harry doesn’t know what the fuck to say to that, but Helga- no, Auksas, is already turning her back to him and making her way to her nest.

For the second time that day, the crowd cheers for him.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey. sorry for the late chapter update, my dog died tonight and while writing is my biggest coping skill, i also was very busy crying ans taking her to the vet. i'm honestly very upset, but like I said writing is how i cope with things so hopefully it won't affect this, but if the writing gets shitty or i don't update on wednesday, it's because of the shit i went though tonight. anyways, i love you guys, give your pets hugs and kisses, stay safe


	14. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is that why there’s blood on your jumper?”
> 
> “Blood on Draco’s jumper?” Millie asks, taking the seat on his right. “Why is there always blood on your jumpers?”

Draco is going to murder him. 

For real this time.

He watches the dragon, with Harry’s dumb self barely visable on her back, fly to the sky and grips his friends’ hands tighter. He wants to scream or cry or do  _ something  _ because Harry is  _ gone  _ and he can’t see him, which means he can’t protect him and in all his years he never thought a  _ dragon  _ would be the thing to best his efforts.

Creepy teachers with a thirst for blood? Maybe. Voldemort? Probably. Harry’s own stupidity? Definitely.

But not a fucking dragon.

He doesn’t let go of Pansy and Blaise’s hands until the dragon is by her nest and when he spots Harry smiling….by Merlin he’s going to strangle him.

“Darling….” Pansy whispers. “He’s okay...but our hands might not be.”

Draco looks down and sure enough, both of their hands have a bit of blood on them from his fingernails. He curses, grabs his wand and casts a quick  _ episkey.  _ He wishes Harry had something to heal himself, like a little box with magical ointment or something to deal with any of the injuries he usually ends up with.

That gives Draco an idea….McGonagall’s words come to mind. What did she say? Something useful for his friends?

He fully intends to dive into that later. But for now, he follows his friends back to the Gang’s Room where Ron and Hermione are already waiting for them.

When Draco closes the door, he sees that Ron has the same finger-nail shaped marks on his hand so he casts another  _ episkey  _ and turns to Hermione.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you?” She sniffs. “I thought he was going to die…”

“Well, I think that ten times a year and he’s still here, isn’t he?”

Draco only says it to make her feel better, but when Harry walks through the door with a big smile the thought dies in his anger. He turns, marches straight up to the boy, fully prepared to hit him, but catches the front of his robes instead.

“You. Are. A. Fucking.  _ Nightmare!  _ Are you  _ trying  _ to die?! What the hell were you thinking?! Talking to a dragon is one thing, but  _ disappearing on her back  _ for  _ a fucking hour  _ is different, you asshole! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you have any idea how worried we were?! Do you even care?!”

Harry’s smile dims, he grasps Draco’s hand, still bunched up on the front of his shirt.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would get that bad...she was angry, she thought we had taken her children, Draco. And I didn’t die, right? So it’s okay.”

“It’s  _ not  _ okay!” Draco shouts. “You have to stop doing this! Do you understand me?! No more near-death experiences!”

Harry doesn’t say anything so Draco shakes him. “Promise me, you fucker. No more nearly dying.”

The boy takes a second to look around the room, meeting faces behind Draco that are just as furious. Then he tightens his hold on Draco’s hand. “I promise I will not actively try to die.”

“That’s not what I-”

“It’s the best I can do.” Harry says quietly. “The past years have kinda proven that I can’t exactly stay away from trouble, but I can try not to die, right? I can’t control what happens to me, but I can control myself and I am here, alive, and promising you that I will try to stay that way. But trying is the best I can do.”

Draco deflates at that because Harry is right. Year after year they’re stuck in a different mess, and Harry has a track record for staying alive, which is the best Draco can ask for. So he lets go of Harry’s robes and steps back so Hermione can hug her friend. Blaise squeezes his hand, it’s not nearly as comforting as Harry had been, but they don’t have time to dwell on that. Dinner will be starting soon, and he still needs to see Fleur.

Draco adds talking to Pomfrey about his Transfiguration idea to his list of Things to Do as he follows his friends out the door. He wishes, not for the first time, that he could walk with the Gryffindors. Stay close to Harry, agree with Hermione on whatever she’s saying, joke with Ron until the bloke makes him laugh. Pansy could rave about her dress, Blaise and Hermione could talk about his Death Garden.

He wants so badly to be near them, but he can’t. Not yet.

So he sits at his own table until the Beauxbatons arrive and he can run to Fleur. Literally run to her, dislodge LuLu from his lap and barely contain his sprint. He doesn’t give a shit about what others think of him, that’s his fucking family that nearly died today. Let them point, or laugh, or do whatever, he is going to quickly walk to Fleur and hug her close with the entire fucking school watching.

_ “You scared the shit out of me.” _

Fleur laughs.  _ “I scared the shit out of myself. Madam was quite angry.” _

_ “She should be! You all nearly died!”  _

Draco wants to say more but Luna comes running up to them, throwing herself into Fleur’s arms. He can’t stop himself from rubbing his cousin’s back.

Fleur cradles her gently, swearing that she’s fine to both of them, and then lets Draco pull the girls to his table.

None of them feel like eating, so they go back to the dorm and pile into his and Blaise’s room.

LuLu sits on his lap, providing real comfort as the others talk around him. They have no idea what the next task is going to be, he still hasn’t started on his homework for the weekend, but he can do all of that tomorrow. 

For now he’s going to listen in on the conversations around him.

Pansy raves about how glorious Fleur looked in her chariot, Blaise and Luna talk about some weird plant Draco can’t bother to pay attention to. It’s calming in a strange way. Knowing that despite all the danger they regularly face, they can still have conversations about semi-normal things.

But, he did promise to meet Harry in the Gang’s Room tonight for the full explanation, so at a quarter to midnight he excuses himself to “take a shower”. Blaise and Pansy roll their eyes, but they don’t stop him from carrying LuLu out of the room. 

Harry is, of course, waiting for him. 

“I’m sorry-“ 

“You already apologized.”

“I know,” Harry rakes a hand through his hair. “But it wasn’t enough was it? I mean, just last week you told me how much I mean to people and I guess my little show with Auksas was probably a big middle finger to your face and I didn’t mean it like that and I just, I need you to know that I didn’t mean for it to turn out like that but-“

Draco shifts LuLu to his left arm so he can grab Harry with his right arm. Their fingers link, there’s something significant about that, he’s sure, but they don’t have time right now. Draco never has time anymore. 

“Slow down. I know you didn’t mean it like that, you just have this really infuriating hero complex. You have to save everyone, but in doing that you’ve saved a lot of people that are important to me.”

“Saved people?” Harry scoffs, “I’m not a hero, I haven’t saved anyone-“ 

“First year. You literally saved the entire school, and all your sneaking around got me involved so I guess you saved me too. Second year, you not only saved the entire school  _ again,  _ but you literally stopped Riddle from killing Ginny. Third year, you saved Sirius. And Remus. And Pansy and Blaise from whatever fucked up fate they would’ve had if they didn’t become your friend. Because of that little stunt, my mother got pulled into all this shit, so you probably saved her, my father,  _ and me  _ all over again. This year you saved Geia, and probably Cedric with that broom bullshit- don’t lie to me I’d know that Firebolt anywhere. You have a hero complex Harry, and that’s not a bad thing….it just means frequent annoying brushes with death.” 

Harry lets out a laugh, indulging LuLu in a few scratches without letting go of Draco’s hand. 

“So you’re not mad?” 

“Oh I’m still pissed,” Harry’s face falls, “But I’m not pissed at  _ you.  _ I’m pissed at the people who keep trying to kill you, dragon included. I don’t even know who the hell Auksas is yet-“

“Yeah….I guess I do have a lot to explain…but can you wait until Sirius and Remus are here? You can yell at me together as long as you support me when I tell them about Geia.” 

Draco’s eyes widen, LuLu twists in his arm to nuzzle into his chest right where his heart has stopped beating. “Oh fuck...we haven’t told them, have we?” 

“Nope. But hey,” Harry smiles, “Look on the bright side, your mum might not be there.”

Draco doesn’t even want to  _ think  _ about his mother’s reaction. He’d barely managed to convince Winky that she didn’t need to know about it in their monthly reports. Something about her “being under a lot of stress” and “You’ve met her, Winky, she’s not dangerous!” but he’s a little fuzzy on the details. 

Unfortunately, his mother is there. Squished right between two worried cousins with a stone face. 

He’s  _ so _ not looking forward to this. 

“Are you okay? I mean you look okay, so I’m assuming that you didn’t get eaten unless this is Draco’s fucked idea of a joke-”

“Sirius!” A smack sounds from the fire. “No cussing in front of the kids!”

“Please, Narcissa, Harry is more important than him. (“Hey!”) Are you alright? Was it scary? They won’t release the papers until tomorrow, but we’ve been so worried!”

“I’m fine!” Harry tries not to laugh. Draco squeezes his hand harder as a warning, he’d prefer it if Sirius refrained from killing him. That’s Draco’s job, thanks. “Really! All good here, though I did think Draco was going to murder me for a second there.”

“I’m still thinking about it, honestly.” 

Harry shoots him a look, but they both know Draco couldn’t hurt him. Badly, that is. No one ever said the Boy Who Lived needs legs, or fingers, or even an unbruised nose for that matter.

Narcissa is instantly on his side, Sirius too. Both glaring at Harry but it’s Remus who sighs and asked what happened.

And, because the adults weren’t worried enough as is, they now can never trust Harry again.

“You….” Sirius takes a deep breath. “You saved the snake that tried to kill you?”

Harry shrugs, “She’s cool. Her name is Geia.”

Draco is so glad his mother can’t jump through the fireplace. She looks furious, but holds her tongue as Harry provides the full explanation.

His mother has known about Harry, Hermione and Ron for a few months now, thanks to Veritaserum and chocolate bribery. She also knew about Pansy and Blaise because Belle Zabini is currently her right-hand woman and Mrs. Parkinson was the first person to join her little list, so there’s really no surprise to finding out that the six of them are friends. 

There is surprise in using the Chamber as a meeting spot.

“The  _ Chamber of Secrets?!  _ You couldn’t think of a  _ single better place?!”  _ Sirius nearly screams.

Harry bothers to look sheepish this time, “We didn’t end up  _ actually  _ using it. It was kinda, um, already in use?”

Draco can see a blood vessel in Remus’s forehead trying to burst through the fire, but it’s nothing compared to the sheer annoyance radiating from his mother as Harry recounts his plan with Geia. She does calm down after he gives her half of a reason, mentioning how Geia would make for a great ally in a war to come, and that she never actually hurt them, Riddle just used her to hurt people. Completely different by Harry’s standards.

He tells them about the group having no clue what the first task was going to be, but throwing themselves into research, about Hermione and Draco finding the stupid picture of Greek Geia, and the Basilisk's history. 

“She taught me about dragons that night, but not like a book teaches. She  _ showed  _ me. I learned how to speak from her memories, and the words that my ancestors used…”

Harry tells them about running into Rita Seeker (Sirius agrees that she’s the absolute worst) and how the woman infuriated him, which is partly why he called Pansy down to the pitch. Draco has to vouch that  _ yes, Harry really did do that  _ and  _ yep, ‘Potter Stinks’ right across his back.  _

When Harry finally gets to the parts Draco didn’t understand he sits up straighter, pulling Harry’s hand closer so he can squeeze it fully.

_ “ _ Geia, the Basilisk, told me that dragons rarely have friends. Especially human ones. They know humans as the selfish beings who take, steal, and ruin whatever magic is left in the world. So she told me from the start, to even get a dragon to listen you must tell them that you are their friend. When I spoke those words, she knew I could Speak, I was assuring her that I wasn’t going to hurt her, and I was begging her to listen to what I had to say. It worked...kinda…”

And okay, Draco gets it. If some asshole had fucked with his family, he’d  _ have  _ to hurt them. He sees the gears turning in his mother’s mind, for multiple reasons because his mother, though extremely liberal and anti-Riddle, is still very interested in blood relations and family history. For a second Draco thinks she  _ knows  _ something, but then she just sighs.

“You need to be more careful.” Sirius says gently. “What if you got hurt? Huh? What would we do then? You still have to come live with us one day...meet Sissy in person...try Remus’s chocolate cake….”

Remus smiles, “And what about Draco? He’s spent four years trying to keep you safe, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you weren’t here anymore.”

“Hey! I know exactly what I would do!”

He ignores the snort from everyone in the room. Narcissa badly hides hers, “And what would you do?”

“Well, for starters I’d kidnap Hermione and the two of us would take a long vacation in Bora Bora.”

They all laugh, but they know it isn’t true. If it was true, Draco wouldn’t be holding onto Harry’s hand so tightly, and he wouldn't be thinking of how perfect it would be to see Harry smiling with friends and family behind a lop-sided cake. 

“I could always just haunt you from a beach.”

Draco raises an eyebrow, “Obviously.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The very next morning Draco drags himself out of bed. Sirius and Harry always stay up far too late talking, and he’s more tired than he has a right to be, but he  _ needs  _ to talk to Pomfrey. As soon as humanly possible.

Which means waiting outside the Hospital Wing door for her office hours to begin. At exactly eight on the dot, the doors bounce open and Draco gets to beam in the face of a slightly concerned Pomfrey.

“Mister Malfoy….” Is that suspicion in her voice or is she just happy to see him? “To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you injured?”

“About that, professor, I have a few questions for you, if you’d be so inclined.”

She raises one eyebrow. “You do realize I run a Hospital here, don’t you? Whatever questions you have could be answered in a letter that wouldn’t waste my time from potential hurt students-”

“See,” Draco takes a step forward, “That’s the thing. I need your help with healing.”

“Healing?”

Draco nods. “Yes. Healing. I have a few, um,  _ friends,  _ who have an uncanny ability to get hurt.” 

She doesn’t look impressed.

“I know the basics, of course, but I need to know more. Professor McGonagall gave us a project for the end of the year. She told me to make something that could help me and my friends, so I’ve decided to make some sort of healing contraption, but I don’t know how to make healing potions or slaves, I barely know the spells, and all projects have to be tested so either you help me or I’ll do it anyways and you’ll end up with several test subjects in your beds-”

Pomfrey laughs. “Please, Malfoy, if you want to learn so badly it’s going to take more than a poorly planned threat. Come with me.”

Draco follows her past the beds, past the intensive care area, past the potions wall, and her office. All the way to what he always assumed was a storage wall, for clothes, bed sheets, whatever else hospital wings might need. Pomfrey throws open one of the long wooden doors and reaches inside. 

She pulls out a weirdly life-like doll, with eyes and fingernails, skin deathly pale, and then, in one fluid quick motion, brings her wand down. Draco’s confused at first, but then he realizes that the doll is  _ bleeding.  _ Like blood pouring from a gash, sputtering out on his clothes, getting all over the floor bleeding. 

“Alright, Malfoy. Your patient comes to you with a fatal cut, what do you do?”

He takes out his wand, already mummering  _ tergeo.  _ Once he can see the rather unnecessarily large gash in the doll’s arm, he says  _ prohibere  _ and traces it with his wand. Then he casts  _ purus  _ to finish up. All that’s left is to wrap it with bandages for when the spells weaken, but he doesn't know where those are so he just stands back and looks at the probably sadistic doctor. 

Pomfrey is fucking  _ smiling,  _ like there’s not blood on his previously spotless uniform. Blaise is gonna freak when he sees it. 

“Very good. You  _ do  _ know the basics, I see, but I’d like to know your thought process.”

Draco wants to argue, she’s nearly asking for it, but he also really needs her to help him. So, he puts his wand away.

“Well, the first thing I like to do with cuts is to stop the bleeding, but I can’t stop it if I can’t see where it’s coming from. Hence the  _ tergeo,  _ which I know isn’t an actual medical spell, but it’s always worked for me, and once the bleeding is stopped I generally like to disinfect, just encase. I could vanish the scar completely, but the wound hasn’t been assessed for any magical traces. Since the cut was done by a wand, it’s possible that forcing the wound away would only make it worse. The only thing left is to wrap the wound until we can give it a full look over.”

Pomfrey nods, “I’m impressed, Mister Malfoy.”

“Please, call me Draco.”

“And you will call me Poppy during our sessions.”

“Our sessions?”

Pomfrey is already shoving the doll back into the closet, “You did say you want to learn to heal? Or did I mishear you?”

“No ma’am! I just thought-”

“Listen, my boy, if you weren’t serious about learning you wouldn’t have healed good ol’ Frankie. Usually when people come to ask me that, they faint at the sight of blood or waste my time. You’ve not only healed Frankie, but given him extra care that most beginners don’t think of. Not to mention that you did it all in under a minute.” Draco follows her to her desk, she whips out a pen and some sort of schedule. “You have either a talent or enough practice to make this worth it. So name your time, Draco, I do believe you’ve earned it.”

Oh. Well. That’s easy, he guesses. 

“My only free period is Wednesday after lunch.”

“Very well, bring me a list of things you need for your project Wednesday and we’ll look into it, though I do need to warn you. I’ll be doing more than teaching you ‘the basics’. No healer is ever content with just episkey.” 

Draco would once again  _ love  _ to argue, but he can’t. She’s right, sometimes episkey isn’t enough. 

Pomfrey dismisses him with a flick of her hand, and since convincing her took less time than he thought it would, he thinks about having tea with Dumbledore. They haven’t spoken much, and seeing that two other headmasters are with him at all times it wouldn’t be the wisest decision on his part, so he squishes that down and starts making his way to Snape’s room. 

He rounds one corner before he realizes footsteps are trailing after him.

Blaise and Pansy are still sleeping, along with Fleur and Luna. They’d all fallen out sometime while he was out with Harry, and it could be one of his morons, but they would’ve just dragged him to some corridor by now. He can’t really think of anyone else that would bother following him instead of calling out his name, but then an arm is around his shoulders.

Unfortunately, it’s someone he’s not overly familiar with.

“Malfoy!” Theodore Nott smiles, then a little quieter, “Any reason why that Hufflepuff is following you?”

Call him a coward, but Draco has been avoiding this asshole since first fucking year. 

Not because he’s weird, or stupid, or overly annoying, but because he’s always been ridiculously attractive. Boyish honey-blonde curls, perfect skin even if a potion has just exploded in his face, long lashes and these stunning blue eyes that remind Draco of the oceans surrounding Malfoy Island. At first the mini-heart attacks he had every time Nott entered the room felt like a curse, but Draco’s also been in close contact with Harry’s stupid curls, that are prettier if he’s being honest. Plus, no one has the effect that Harry has on him. 

So, instead of freaking out like a first year, Draco shrugs the arm off him.

“A Huffle…” 

They walk for a bit, other students are beginning to drag themselves to breakfast, and after a few minutes of an awkward silence, Nott pulls him into a classroom and closes the door behind him.

Draco’s wand is out and pointing, but Nott just makes a face.

“None of that, please. It’s a little early to be fighting, I haven’t even had my morning tea yet.”

“Then why drag me in here? Do you have a problem?”

“Yes, actually.” Nott perches on the side of a desk, “But not one that requires wands. I just want to know why Crabbe and Goyle are permanently my problem now.”

His wand would fall right out of hand if he wasn’t so used to Harry doing shit like this. 

“Excuse me?”

Nott brushes some of those thick blonde curls away from his eyes. “Oh, come off it. I’ve had my own room for years, and then, very suddenly might I add, they’re dumped on me? They used to follow you around like  _ dogs  _ so I just assumed it was a little fight or something. Thought it’d be over before the games started, but it’s been nearly  _ three months  _ and I still wake up to the smell of Goyle’s farts?”

Those were awful. Blaise keeps their room filled with candles and plants, even LuLu’s litter box doesn’t smell bad. When he left this morning it actually smelled faintly of fresh rain. 

“Invest in candles, I know you have the money for it.”

“True, but I wouldn’t  _ have  _ to invest in them if you called off your muts. I  _ am  _ on your side, you know.”

Draco’s mouth is suddenly very dry. Parched like the fucking desert. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re mad if you thought I wouldn’t notice. Shoving your pets off on me, glancing after Cedric and Potter. Hell, your entire ‘rivalry’ with Potter is a sham in itself.”

Okay, the Cedric part is probably the most confusing, so he means it this time. “No, seriously I don’t-”

“You’re gay, Malfoy! It’s rather obvious, what with how you stare at Quidditch boys’ asses and have Pansy Parkinson as a best friend. You’ve never even thought about kissing her, have you?”

Merlin, no. Kissing Pans would be like kissing his sister, but still “I am not!”

“Yes you are! That’s why Crabbe and Goyle are my problem now, right? Because you told them and they didn’t accept you and now they’re afraid to sleep in the same room as you.”

On the plus side, he doesn’t have to think of a big lie now. Nott fed himself one that Draco can very much use to his advantage.

“And I get it, of course. I mean, Cedric is fit as hell, so is Justin Fletch-Fletchy, Huffles are cute, even the one that was following you, and have you  _ seen  _ the boys from the other schools? They’re insane! Potter’s an anomaly, I mean he has nice eyes, sure, but his hair is always a mess and he’s a little too famous for my tastes. To each his own, though.”

“Watch yourself, Nott, I’ll have you know that-” Draco slaps a hand over his mouth. No way in  _ hell  _ is he going to rant about how amazing Harry’s messing morning hair is. That torture is saved for Blaise and Pansy and sometimes LuLu. Also, he has no idea where Nott stands on  _ anything,  _ much less-

“Wait a second. H-Potter is a half-blood. So is Fletch-Fletchy.”

Nott blinks. “W-what? I mean, you’re not wrong, of course you’re not wrong. It’s just that, um, well-”

“It doesn’t matter to you.” Draco says. Now he gets it. It’s one thing to be queer in the wizarding word, and a completely different thing to be a queer pureblood. No one cares all that much, affairs are near tradition, but to sleep with someone,  _ anyone  _ of lesser decent is…. “How did you know? Say I  _ am  _ interested in blokes. What gave it away?”

Nott tosses his head back, curls going with it, and looks Draco up and down. Clear blue eyes sizing him up for something. “Well, we’re nearly fifteen. Sixteen is when the marriages are signed, so if your mum hasn’t begun looking at girls for you to marry….” Nott adverts his eyes. “Normally mums just force it anyways, you know how important carrying on the lines are...but your mum doesn’t. That usually means your mum is more...liberal...and we know what that means, don’t we?”

Draco tries to put the pieces together. Yes, his mum is a liberal, but Draco’s marriage issue has nothing to do with that. Hell, he hadn’t really thought much of romance with everything going on. Yes, he admits that men are attractive, and he never once looked at any girls the way he looks at Harry, so he probably is into blokes, but he didn’t even know that until now. Maybe Nott is just speaking from personal experience. 

Draco blinks.

Fuck.

Of  _ course  _ Nott knows what he’s talking about, the boy just admitted to crushing on  _ two Huffles.  _ That can only mean- “You don’t buy into the Dark Lord bullshit, do you?”

“Nope.” Nott sighs, “Oh thank Merlin, I thought you did for a second there.”

Draco laughs, actually fucking laughs. “Not at all?”

“Of course not!” Nott yells, “Do you know what his kind do to gays? Torture, Malfoy. Like,  _ rip limb from limb  _ torture. It’s not pretty, and they do it for what? Because some blokes like it up the ass? Tell me what kind of sense that makes! Sounds to me like he’s  _ obviously  _ never had an orgasm.”

He can’t stop laughing, especially imagining Riddle McTiddle anywhere near sex. It’s probably the strangest thing he’s heard in a while.

“Listen to me!" Nott whines, "I don’t care about the Dark Lord! I just want twiddle dee and twiddle dumb out of my room! It’s bad enough that they ruin my things, but now they’re  _ following me around!  _ Have you any idea how hard it is to get a date with those two always hanging about?!”

Draco’s grasping his sides now, “Sorry, Nott, but no can do. I can, however, help you out.”

“How?”

And that is the question. He needs proof that Nott is one of them, of course, but slipping to Snape that Nott is in danger might help a bit. If he can’t get his own room, Draco can probably bully Blaise into putting up with another roommate. Granted, he’d have to lay some groundwork and make sure Nott’s actually on their side.

Pansy would kill him otherwise.

“Did you even come back last night?” She asks the second he sits down at brunch. Draco makes room for Nott, who slides in on his left. Fleur and Luna are absent, so they’re probably still sleeping. Blaise isn’t doing much better, his head nearly falling into a cup of coffee.

He sits up straight as soon as he realizes who he’s sat across from. But, because Blasie is amazing and perfect and Draco will be owing him big time later, he doesn’t make a scene.

“Pans is right, we don’t care who you're snogging, as long as you're snogging within the limits of curfew.”

“I wasn’t out snogging! Pass the jam, will you?”

Pansy grabs the lemon one out of habit, “You can’t lie to us! Theo! Doesn’t Draco look freshly snogged?”

“Freshly frightened more like it,” Nott-Theo, apparently- doesn’t miss a beat. “Caught some Huffle following him out of Pomfrey’s office.”

“Is that why there’s blood on your jumper?”

“Blood on Draco’s jumper?” Millie asks, taking the seat on his right. “Why is there always blood on your jumpers?”

“It’s not mine!” Draco whines, thankful that his friends know better than to ask. “It’s Pomfrey’s-her doll, I mean. Look, this is all a big misunderstanding.”

So he spends breakfast explaining his morning, getting doubtful looks from his friends about his project idea, and glares from Crabbe and Goyle. It’s been a long morning already, but he really has his heart set on seeing Snape, so after breakfast he excuses himself and makes his way down to the dungeons. 

He stops only once to glare at the William character. Then Draco knocks twice on Snape’s door, and once it’s open he holds up his middle finger and makes his way inside.

“A rather crude gesture to display before noon.”

“It’s well deserved.” Draco pauses to take in his god-father still in his night-clothes. The door to his bedroom, usually open, is tightly shut. A single green hair-tie lays on his desk, heels badly hidden under a blanket. “Um, am I interrupting something?”

Snape blinks slowly. “Not at all.”

“Really? Because I didn’t peg you as the type to wear heels and-” Draco nearly trips, eyes going wide. “Did you wash your hair?”

“I beg your pardon! I wash my hair all the time!”

Draco’s still trying to recover, pinching his side just to make sure this is real. 

“It’s not my fault that I have an oily scalp and work with substances that escalate the amount of grime in my hair.” Snape is saying. “And don’t think I don’t hear you and your little friends talking about it, to think you wonder why I’m mean to my students-”

The door to his bedroom creaks open and Draco finds himself falling on the couch, jaw dropping, eyes bulging out of his skull.

Ellios, that weirdly beautiful person from Krum’s school steps out, clothes wrinkled, a sly smile on their face. “Severus, I rather think the boy has a point.” 

They step further into the room, buttoning up their shirt, casually kicking their heels free from their fluffy prison. “Perhaps if you used the shampoo I recommended….”

“Ellie!” Snape whisper-shouts, Draco pinches himself again because there’s no way in Merlin’s great name that Snape is  _ blushing.  _ What the hell has he walked into?

“What?” Ellios glares, slipping on one heel after the other and leaning to grab the green string. They tie their hair up in one fluid motion and smile Draco’s way. “You would not mind keeping this our little secret, would you?”

And because Draco is sure he’s stumbled into a different reality, he nods with his mouth still wide open.

“Marvelous.” Ellios’s smile is nearly blinding, but even worse is the way they kiss Snape on his still burning cheek. “I must be going now, duty calls, as you know. And Mister Malfoy, do remember to keep your mouth shut, hm?”

And with that, they leave the room, Snape and Draco looking after their hips with wide eyes. There’s a beat of quiet, and then Draco manages to tear his head away from the door.

“You….” He has to pause and take a breath. “You’re fucking them?”

“Language.” Snape snaps, “And what I do in my free time is none of your business.”

“More like  _ who  _ you do.”

“Shut up, I’ll kick you out and tell your mother about the alcohol you think you’ve hidden.”

Draco promptly shuts his mouth, afterall, he can pester Snape about this  _ after  _ he has tea and complains about William. And Nott. And Harry. Pretty much everything, really.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


By Wednesday morning Draco is fully prepared to go into full panic mode. 

He still has no clue what the second task is, his project idea for Transfiguration is making less progress than his attempts to get information about Snape’s sex life, he hasn’t been able to talk to Harry since Saturday, his homework is steadily pilling up, Fleur’s anxiety increases with every waking moment, Luna has taken this new habit of asking him weird questions every time they run into each other, and to top it all of he can barely sleep.

The lack of sleep he can deal with, but everything else is starting to wear on him.

Which is probably why he’s hiding in the Gang’s Room with LuLu, trying to catch up on homework before he has to go meet Pomfrey. 

His little cat-bastard hasn’t had a single problem, lazing wherever she pleases, eating whatever whenever, getting constant affection from anyone who happens to fall prey to those big doll-eyes. Draco is her latest victim, as he finds himself petting her instead of doing his paper for Potions.

Thankfully, he’s saved by Hermione barging in. 

She looks a little frazzled, hair a little crazier than usual, eyes watery, cheeks darker than the rest of her skin. Crookshanks follows her, pausing to greet LuLu with a nuzzle and a pur as Draco raises from his table.

“What happened? You look like you’ve been forced to interact with Myrtle.”

“Oh please,” Hermione wipes at her eyes, “Even Myrtle isn’t this bad…” 

Fuck,  _ oh fuck.  _ Hermione is  _ crying.  _ She clears her throat, badly hides the tiny little sob that comes out, and shakes her head. “Sorry, I see that you’re studying and-”

“Please, ‘Mione, sit down. Have some tea, tell me what the hell happened.”

Or who the hell did what because he is not above beating someone for making his friend cry. Never has and never will be. 

A quick hex to the back of a kneecap never killed anyone. 

Hermione laughs, a sad little sound, and sits across from his books. “It’s just….I feel so stupid, Draco.”

“You? Stupid? Never.” Draco sits back down, letting LuLu hop up. “Tired, nearly always. But never stupid.”

“I dunno about that….”

Draco reaches out to squeeze her hand. She squeezes back and after a moment she sighs.

“I can’t figure out what they’re going to drag Harry through next...it’s life or death for him, ya know? I’m so scared that one day he won’t come back, and now the odds are ever higher and who’s going to help me with Ron if he’s not there? Bloody idiot is already butthurt because Krum and I have been spending time together, and now he’s making fun of me for not having a date to the Yule Ball but…” Hermione blushes, “But I do have one…”

“You do?! Who is it? Do I know them? Is it Pansy?”

“No.” She smacks his arm, but at least her smile is back. “It’s not Pans, though I would like to go dancing with her one day...it’s, um, Viktor Krum?”

Draco tilts his head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You know….Krum like that one Quidditch player? The cute one with the-”

_ “Yes  _ I know Krum! He’s only a national hero?! One of the best players like, ever. Please tell me how this happened. Was it the library dates? Because Fleur bet he’d ask you and I might owe her money.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

Draco rolls his eyes, “Judgement later, details now.”

“Well,” Hermione glares a bit, but continues anyway. “It started with the library, but then we began taking walks, discussing books, and reading under the trees. He’s rather intelligent, though he doesn’t look it. He’s also sweet, caring, Godric, just yesterday he carried my bag for me so I could read on the way to class. He’s  _ wonderful  _ Draco!” 

Draco doesn’t like the feeling curling in his gut. “But?”

Hermione frowns. “He’s perfect, you have to understand that, it’s just...well, some of our views are a bit different. For example, he doesn’t understand why I’m so passionate about house-elf freedom. His school teaches him dark magic, and he likes some of it. He was so  _ shocked  _ when Harry came to help him and I...I just don’t know how I feel about a person like that. He’s just different, and that’s not a bad thing…”

Draco sits back in his chair, stroking LuLu’s fur and taking a moment to compose his thoughts. 

“I understand, but you need to understand some things as well. Krum is a pureblood, like me. He’s never known life without house elves, and as you know, it’s dangerous for a house elf to be without a family, they need us and though we don’t necessarily need them, we still rely on them. Mutualistic relationship, remember?”

Hermione nods, Draco moves LuLu to his left.

“Also, I hate to tell you this, but most purebloods know dark magic, and not all dark magic is actually ‘dark’. It could just be a spell a wizard in charge didn’t want others to know, or didn’t like. Politicians determine what is deemed ‘dark’ or ‘pure’, we shouldn’t forget that. Teaching students the Dark Arts is not that fun, sure, but think of our climate. Right now we’re on the brink of probably another war with the asshole who fucked the entire wizarding world not even twenty years ago. Knowing spells that Death Eaters might use is a good idea, if nothing for protection against them.”

“I understand that!” Hermione sighs, “Of course I do, but to use them...and while I think wizards have some of the stupidest politicians in the world, knowing the Killing Curse, or having to cast Crucio...it’s just awful.”

Draco nods, “You’re right of course, but those spells are banned for everyone. I bet Krum knows the spell that turns a person into a duck.”

Hermione looks up at that.

“I’m sorry, did you say a duck?”

“Yep. It’s advanced Transfiguration, though turning a human into an animal forever is considered ‘dark’ it could definitely solve a few of our problems.”

Hermione giggles, “I can’t stay sad with the image of Riddle as a duck…”

“We could call him The Duck Lord.”

“Voldy-duck.”

“Tom Duckle.”

Hermione burst out laughing. “I’d say the Duck Eaters but that feels rather wrong.”

“They’ve done worse,” Draco shrugs, “Anyways. Does Ron know about Krum? Does Pans know?”

Hermione sighs, but her smile is still there. “I don’t want to tell Ronald because he’s been an ass for the past few weeks, but Pans was there when Krum asked me. I think she’s still in shock that I said yes.”

“To be fair, I’m also in shock-hey!” Draco smacks the pillow flying his way, “I’m just saying that I didn’t think you’d be into sporty guys!”

“Yeah? Well! You have-you have a thing for curls!”

And, yeah, she’s got him there. Between Nott’s golden curls that have been popping up the past few days and Harry’s dark ones that are around every corner, he can’t really catch a break. So he sticks his tongue out like the mature teenager he is and places LuLu on the ground. 

“If you’re done making fun of my mistakes, I have to go see Pomfrey.”

“Draco…” One look into Hermione’s big brown eyes and he knows he’s about to get some of the best advice. “You know he’d say yes, don’t you?”

On second thought, Draco has no fucking clue what she’s talking about, but she and the boys are meeting Hagrid in twenty minutes, and if Draco tries to figure it out he’ll be late to Pomfrey’s. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone, I know it's been a while since the last chapter. my best friend has been making an effort to spend every off day with me since my dog died and while I adore them for trying to make me feel better it's really cut down on my writing time. Anyways, I sound be back on our normal schedule soon and I'm so very excited for the next chapter. have a wonderful day and thank you again for all the support  
> <3


	15. Dates, Dances, and Duties, Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco groans once more, Blaise laughs from across the room, and he resigns himself to the fact that he will not be getting any sleep until Christmas break. 

On Saturday morning Draco’s woken up by Winky and Dobby both, which can’t be anything good.

“Good morning Master Draco!”

“Today is the first day of December!”

Draco groans, rolls until his face is completely in his pillow so he doesn’t have to deal with their smiling faces. The past week has been quite possibly the longest week of his life.

On Monday, Hagrid lectured them, a long painful experience but it’s now too cold to be outside for a long period of time, and he’d rather listen to the oaf speak than give into Blaise’s demands for a warming charm _anyone_ could cast. Or at least, that’s what he thought until Hagrid had said ‘um’ forty times, ‘right, then’ fifty seven times, and ‘so’ roughly a hundred times. Painful isn’t the right word, but Draco can’t think of anything else to describe Care of Magical Creatures at the moment. 

In History of Magic, Binns decided to keep his classroom too fucking cold so instead of listening to him lecture about trolls, Draco spent the entire time keeping himself and Pansy warm all the while getting glares from Blaise, Millie, _and_ Theo. It’s not his fault they were outside of his warming charm. It’s also not his fault that he’s _good_ at charms. Maybe they should work on their studies instead of spending their spare time glaring at him, or in Millie’s case, napping.

And because that didn’t put him in a bad mood enough, Rita Seeker’s articles about Harry started releasing on Monday. So every damn day at breakfast the papers were released, and every damn day everyone was talking about it by lunch. Monday had been the story about how awful it was for Harry to communicate with such a dangerous beast, which could only mean that (gasp) Harry is dangerous. Because Harry, the idiot who once looked at a big stupid snake and thought ‘she needs help, lets help her’ definitely doesn’t have a heart of gold and is most certainly evil.

On the plus side, he spent his free period practicing the ‘correct usage of minor healing spells’ with Pomfrey, no, _Poppy._ It was supposed to be something to look forward to, an early lesson to kick start his project, but what he found out is that Poppy is the hardest teacher in the whole school. No questions until she’s done talking, and yes, Draco did try to interrupt her and that’s exactly how he ended up covered in yellow goo on his way to Potions because he didn’t have the fucking time to cast Scourgify until _after_ he was seated and a full minute late.

Speaking of Potions, that’s been a nightmare since he started his quest into Snape’s sex life. Honestly! He shouldn’t be punished for being curious, Severus literally brought this on himself. Sneaking around is bad enough, but the man hasn’t shown an interest in _anyone_ to the point that Draco thought sex, love, and romance just didn’t _do_ it for the man. He remembers a Lily person he was told to never speak of, but besides her it’s been nothing. Less action than Riddle, which is an unpleasant thought to have when staring at the back of your god father who is trying to teach. 

Dinner would have been great if Pansy hadn’t skipped it to work on her formal projects, leaving him completely defenseless in the face of Flint and Cassius who decided that a fucking Monday would be the day to tell the Slytherin Quidditch team that practice would be starting in an hour. Blaise, the fucker, had _laughed._ So had Millie and Theo, and to be fair Pansy would have laughed too, so at least he had Fleur’s sympathetic smile to hold him until he managed to make it back to his room. And because Blaise is also weirdly sweet sometimes, he lit Draco’s favorite candle before going to bed so the room smelt like green apples and cinnamon. 

On the bad side, Tuesday brought another Skeeter article and Transfiguration. McGonagall had _clearly_ read the papers that morning, and was _not_ happy with it. Draco was right, McGonagall being nice is terrifying, but McGonagall angry is not a sight he ever wants to see again. There’s a good reason that Dumbledore tries to stay on her good side. 

Draco had to listen to the rumors all throughout a horrid DADA until Moody, who surprisingly doesn’t live up to his nickname, dismissed them. He seemed a little _too_ happy given that Skeeter was now bluntly calling Cedric a piece of trash, Krum a Dark Lord, Fleur a fucking monsterus slut, and Harry the only thing worse than the Dark Arts themselves. He still wants to burn her eyebrows off for those last two statements, but Pansy had told him that he couldn’t go to jail until _after_ the ball so he’ll just have to let his mother handle it.

Blaise was fairing just as poorly as he was at keeping his annoyance in check, which is probably why a mysterious smoking Toadstool landed on top of some Ravenclaw’s head only moments after they called Harry a ‘fucking disaster’. And no, Draco did not hide his smile because seeing the asshole cry with smoke in his eyes was _fucking hilarious._ Plus, Blaise seemed to feel better so there was no harm done, really. 

He usually would have been thankful for Charms, but Flitwick was mad over _something,_ he really has a list to choose from at this point, so they ended up not being able to talk or do spells. Instead they listened to the tiny man rant about proper ways to hold a wand, and though he definitely ignored Draco and his friends passing notes, he was _not_ happy about it. 

An actual happy note did sound when he _finally_ saw Harry again. Stupid idiot cornered him to complain about Ron wanting to ask Hermione to the ball and being sad that she already had a date, laughed at the shit Seeker was spewing, and then squeezed Draco’s arm goodbye. Draco went to dinner, and to run laps with Flint’s overly cheerful ass, feeling slightly better.

But then he had to go through Wednesday morning without being able to ask Hermione about _her_ Ancient Runes charts, or _her_ Ancient Studies notes because his legs were aching the entire time and he could not focus until he got to lunch and was suddenly consumed with annoyance all over again. 

Not actual anger because Harry thought his new, darker and more insulting, nicknames were funny. And Draco had another ‘lesson’ with Poppy that involved knives and a bit of potion brewing. At least this time he didn’t leave with a strange substance on him, and there’s so few people taking Arithmancy that he and Hermione could sneak glances and completely get away with it. 

Things were looking up Wednesday after dinner when the Six Morons, as Pansy likes to call them, met up in the Gang’s Room for some studying and light reading. Well, he and Hermione called it ‘light reading’. Winky called it ‘an excuse to stay up late’, Blaise called it ‘an unhealthy coping mechanism’, and Ron called it ‘disgusting, but in an intellectual way’. 

And then he had to be up at three on Thursday morning for Astrology, and the course began again, this time with _more_ homework and pop quizzes because how else are teachers going to get out all their pent up anger?

To top things off, Flint and Cassius, the evil little bastards, decided to make the old team ‘brush up on drills’ last night, which is code for torture on a lesser degree, and also means Draco didn’t get back until ten minutes after curfew, was freezing cold, and still had to help Blaise with his Potions assignments.

So yeah, long fucking week, long fucking life, and there’s not a single fucking reason he should be awake at seven in the fucking morning on a _Saturday._

Except, it’s the first day of December and that can only mean-

“It’s time for Check Ins!” Winky says cheerfully, like she’s not giving Draco another reason to hide under the covers.

He does, in fact, burrow under the covers. In hopes that she’ll go away so he can do this later.

His hopes are thrown in the garbage and set on fire just for good measure.

“Nightmares?” Dobby asks. If Draco thinks hard enough he can see their little clipboards filled with a list from his mother.

Better to get this over with. “No.”

“Dangerous situations?”

“You know who I am as a person.”

“That’s a yes then...eatings? Yes, I makes sure Master Draco eats enough. Weekly interaction with Master Severus?”

“Yeah, Sev and I are good.” Draco mumbles. He registers Blaise politely asking them to ‘shut the fuck up’, but he might be imaging things.

“Sleepings? Not very well, but-”

“My sleep schedule is fine, thanks.”

He can see it. His eyes are closed and hidden by a silk pillow slip, but he can see Winky’s eyebrow raise and Dobby’s barely contained laughter. 

“Would Master Draco like Winky to fill it out?”

Merlin, no. Winky would be completely honest, and he doesn’t need that at all. 

To save his sanity Draco rolls over and drapes an unbothered LuLu across his eyes.

“All my vitals are normal, I haven’t consumed any illicit substances, Harry is good and says hi, yes he’s still being an idiot but I don’t know what mum expects at this point. Pans is excited to see her and Belle before the Yule Ball, yes Blaise is annoyed by the whole situation, no I haven’t been able to have tea with Dumbledore yet. I started extra classes with Pomfrey for a project, I’m probably going to take Luna to the Yule Ball and she should be getting my letter about Christmas ideas by Wednesday. Is that everything?”

“Yes sir.” Winky says, all professional like she didn’t bring him a hot chocolate spiked with pepper-up at two am. “That is being it for now, I will return later with news from Mistress Narcissa.”

“Thanks, you’re great.” Draco mumbles. He doesn’t even complain when a pillow comes flying his way from across the room. Instead he curls around LuLu and tries to go the fuck back to sleep. 

“Master Draco.”

What now? He’d given his report, LuLu is still asleep, Blaise can and _will_ be throwing a tantrum if they don’t leave soon. What else is left?

“Master Draco!”

“Yes?” He groans, barely keeping his irritation down. He’d learned the hard way that annoying a loyal house elf was never a smart decision.

“You have a meeting with Madam Pomfrey at eight, sir.”

Fucking hell. Draco groans once more, Blaise laughs from across the room, and he resigns himself to the fact that he will not be getting any sleep until Christmas break. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You’re taking who?”

Millie looks up from her pudding. She takes a second to swallow, dabs at her chin for suspense, and then smiles. “Did I stutter?”

“No,” Pansy says, all wide eyes and creepy grin. “I just can’t believe you got a date _over a week ago_ and _didn’t think to tell me.”_

“It’s not my fault you don’t listen to me and Daphne talk at night.”

Draco waves his spoon in front of them. “Hello, can someone please explain? The rest of us are kinda confused.”

The two Slytherin girls blink. Then they finally notice the others sitting around them, Blaise and Theo trying to out-bore each other, Draco and Fleur completely lost to the situation, and Luna, looking deeply into her raspberry cake like it holds the world’s secrets. Millie coughs.

“Sorry, um.”

“What Millie is trying to say is that she’s a back-stabbing friend who _promised_ to tell me if she was even going-which she never did, by the way-and now _all the sudden-”_

“All of the sudden?!” Millie fires back, “You would know about this if you ever listened to me and your other roommate!”

“Daphne is _never_ there! She’s always off with her sister or flirting with Ravens!”

“Guys…” Blaise draws, “The point of the story, if you please.”

He makes a yelp a few seconds later, if Draco had to guess it’s probably because Pansy stomped on his foot. 

“So,” Millie leans forward, completely ignoring Blaise casually dropping chocolate pudding on Pansy’s sleeve. “There we were, the three of us finally in a room together and Daph starts telling me about this Raven that asked her to the ball, Frodi Axel-”

“Frodi Axel?” Theo giggles, “What type of name is that?”

“He’s _Scandinavian,_ you asshole.”

Fleur cocks her head, “Scandinavian? Why did he not go to Durmstrang?”

“I don’t know.” Millie pauses, “It makes more sense but I honestly have no clue. Anyways, she’s going with him, and started complaining about Pansy not making her dress, so I told her I wasn’t getting one either because I didn’t plan on going, and then she got upset and after listening to her whine I told her I was only going if I got asked, because as much as I want to see Theo sneak in alcohol, I don’t want to babysit all of you all night long because you can’t handle your liquor-”

“I can handle mine just fine!” Draco protests.

Fleur nods through a mouthful of fruit, “True, even as a child Draco has never had problems with alcohol.”

Millie waves her hands, “Quit interrupting! I’m trying to tell you a _story!”_

“A tale of lies,” Pansy adds in, apparently over her and Blaise’s miniature war. Blaise is brushing off a bit of fruit tart, he has a bit of whipped cream on his nose.

“A tale you _missed_ because you were busy in your own world more like it.” 

The girls glare for a second more before Pansy huffs and Millie continues with a triumphant smile.

“So, a few days after Daph found out I wasn’t going, this Durmstrang boy approached me, I think his name is Ezlik? Eddie? Erick? Something with an E-”

“You don’t know his name?” Theo gasps. 

Draco grins, “Well, you don’t need a name to have a good time.”

“Exactly.” Millie bumps his shoulder, “All I need to know is the E part. And Mister E is _very_ attractive, so of course I said yes when he asked me. I told Daph, when the three of us were getting ready for bed, but apparently _someone_ wasn’t listening!”

“I was busy!” Pansy defends.

Fleur reaches over the table to poke him, “Who are you going with?”

“Luna.” Draco sighs, “She needs someone in fourth year or higher to take her and I don’t want her missing out. She’ll love the decor.”

“I’m going with your friend Alice,” Blaise winks. Fleur does not see this as a winking matter.

“Alice? When did you ask her? Why has she not told me?”

“I only asked her after lunch, she’s very sweet and told me my French is awful but cute enough to spend the night with.”

Fleur glares, Draco’s rather impressed. His cousin’s glare is almost as good as his. “If you defile her I will be very cross with you.”

“Please, Blaise may talk a big game but he’d never defile anyone.”

“Pansy is right, consent is very important to me. I was taught to sleep with men for their money and keep their wives as close friends.”

“I don’t like what you’re implying.” Draco frowns. “Our mothers are very close friends you know.”

Blaise chuckles, “Don’t worry. Narcissa would kill them both, plus your father isn’t my mum’s type.”

“Rich? Nice hair? Good teeth?” Pansy supplies.

“No, just too much of a raving lunatic at times.”

Theo looks between the two of them like Draco might make a scene, but he just smiles. “You’ve got him there.”

“Anyways,” Theo says a little forcefully, “I haven’t gotten a date yet.”

“Me either. I’ve been so busy making clothes that I forgot a date was supposed to be a part of my ensemble…” Pansy gives Theo a calculated look. “You dress up nicely, don’t you Theo?”

Theo returns her grin, Draco has an urge to vomit. “I’m flattered, dearest, but you should know that I-”

“You’re gay, yes, I know. I don’t care about that, but Luna is probably going to spend the evening with her _special friend,_ which means I’ll be stuck keeping Draco company, so you’ll be free to do whatever. All I need is someone to walk in with a matching suit.”

“A free suit, made by the Queen herself?”

Pansy smiles sweetly, “I do love charity work.”

“Fine.” Theo snorts, “We’re all sorted then.”

And yes, the Slytherins are all good to go. Always prepared, always glamorous, always a show stopper. It’s the other idiots Draco’s suddenly worried about. 

“Dates?” Fred asks later that evening.

They’ve all gathered in the Gang’s Room for another dance practice. The Yule Ball is three weeks away, but next week is Exam Week and Draco and Hermione originally met up to study, yet somehow here they are. Quizzing each other while waltzing. 

“Ehwaz?”

Draco spins her, “Partnership. Eihwaz?”

“Defense.” She replies, coming seamlessly back into his arms. “We’re going to get Os on the Ancient Runes, it’s Potions I’m worried about.”

“You’re telling me. I’ve got Potions covered, it’s McGonagall’s end of year project that’s going to kill me.”

Hermione laughs, nearly bumping into Ron and Pansy, “That’s because you’ve decided to become Pomfrey’s torture toy.”

“Dates, people!” Harry calls out from where Luna is leading him. “Ron and I don’t have dates!”

“You have a date?” Blaise asks his dance partner, George. 

“Yep. Fred is going with Angelina, I’m taking Tiffany Moon.”

“I thought Tiffany was a lesbian?” Hermione calls.

George grins back, “She is.”

Instead of wondering down that rabbit hole, Draco pauses with Hermione mid-step. “Harry, Ron, do you two really not have dates?”

Harry falters with Luna, Ron stops his weird try-not-to-step-on-Pansy’s-toe act. “Um...we kind...forgot?”

“Forgot? You’re one of the Champions!” Draco cries.

Hermione rolls her eyes. “Harry, weren’t you listening to McGonagall when she told you about the Champion’s dance?”

“The what now?”

Blaise collects himself from George, which means Fred leads Millie over to their area and the entire group of them get to listen to Blaise’s boring explanation.

“The Champion’s Dance, you nuisance, is a customary dance that occurs every Yule Ball. Before anyone else is allowed to dance, or even eat for that matter, the three- in this case four- Champions of the Triwizard Tournament must perform a dance. In front of everyone. Which you cannot do without a partner.”

Harry’s jaw drops. Then he turns to Hermione with hopeful eyes.

“Nope. I already have a date, and for the record, this is exactly what I meant when I said you procrastinate too much.” 

“I thought you were talking about homework!”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you have a date?” Ron stutters. He looks oddly put out, which is interesting considering he seriously doesn’t have a date. Which isn’t a big deal to Draco, but is a big deal to Pansy.

“Listen here, you little shit. I did _not_ spend _hours_ fixing those _hideous_ things you call _dress robes_ for you not to have a date. You are going to get one. Dance until your feet are _bleeding._ And when everyone asks where you got your robes from, you will tell them it was the best seamstress in all of England, _do you understand me?”_

Ron gulps. “Yes ma’am.”

“What about Parvati? She’s nice.” Fred says.

“Or Ginny, you do still need a date don’t you?”

Ginny shakes her head, “I bullied Neville into taking me so I could dance with Luna when he gets tired.”

Luna beams at her, Draco sighs. He knew this would happen. Pansy knew this would happen. Hell, when he asked Luna if she wanted to go Luna probably knew this would happen. 

“I’d say take Astoria, but Daph would kill me.” Millie pipes up.

“Nah, he’d be better off with someone like Susan Bones if he’s going out of house.”

“Which he won’t” George grins.

Ron looks definitely put off. “I’d take anyone at this point.”

“Anyone?” Blaise and Draco ask at the same time. He looks at them like they’re insane, which only encourages them further.

“Because if that’s the case,” Draco can’t stop himself from smirking. “You could always take Myrtle.”

“No! No way! Over my dead body!”

They all laugh at that, except for Harry who’s weirdly quiet. Draco wants to ask him about it, but a room full of people might not be the best time.

“You have to take someone, or Pans might kill you.” The twins say.

“Harry,” Hermione begins in her mum voice, “You need someone too. You’ll be forced to stand there awkwardly and dance with McGonagall if you don’t.”

Harry shivers at that, making a pathetic excuse for a laugh and then says something to clearly indicate that he’s unhappy with the whole situation. “Can we study now? I need to pass my History of Magic exams and I never learn anything from Binns.”

Just like that dance time is over and Hermione is herding them all to the tables. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“No.”

“Please.” Theo pleads, “I’d owe you my life, Draco.”

Draco rolls his eyes. A Nott in his debt would be great, but he already _has_ a Nott in his debt. A rather clingy one too. “I said no, Theo. I’m not going to kiss you.”

“Why not?!” Theo barks. He lowers his voice so the entire hallway can’t hear their little argument as they make their way to breakfast. “Think about it, I have no experience, you have no experience. I’m meeting up with Justin after the ball, you’ll probably find your way into a broom closet with Pott-ow!”

 _“Will you knock it off.”_ Draco hisses. “There is nothing between me and _him_ of all people.”

Theo snorts, still clutching his side. “Sure, and I’m as straight as Elton John.”

“Who?”

“Don’t worry about it, the important thing is that we’re both too hot to _not_ snog after the ball, we both like blokes, so why _not_ learn how to please before it actually matters.”

Draco’s nearing his frustration peak. The top of his left eyebrow is going to start twitching any second now, and he still doesn’t know if Nott’s being serious or trying to get him to admit that he _does_ have a ridiculous _something_ for Harry. He’s saved from responding by someone calling his name. 

They both turn to look, seeing Cedric Diggory coming their way, waving and calling his name once more. 

“Hey!” He says once he’s in front of them. “You got a second?”

Draco nods, “Sure.” Then he turns to Theo, “Tell Pans and Blaise that I’ll be there in a second.”

Theo nods and slinks away like a defeated puppy, not that it matters to Draco. He’s a little busy following Cedric to a deserted hallway.

“You know, I don’t mean to pry, but it’s a little strange for a Huffle to be so secretive.”

“Just like it’s strange for a Snake to cozy up with a Lion?”

Draco freezes on the spot, but Cedric just laughs. “Figured that one out this summer at the World Cup. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I actually just wanted to give you his broom.”

“His Broom?” Draco says smartly, like his entire everything isn’t riding on the secrecy of his and Harry’s relati- _friend_ ship. 

Cedric holds out his hand, whispers ' _accio firebolt’_ and ten seconds later Harry’s broom in before them. “I can’t give it back to him myself, it’ll be too obvious that I borrowed it from him and I don’t want anyone to accuse us of cheating, so I figured I should give it to someone he trusts.”

“And why would Harry Potter trust me?”

Cedric just sighs, hands out the broom that Draco does take, and then smiles. “Because you’re not your reputation, Malfoy. Not with how much time you’ve been spending with Luna out in public. How you treat Fleur, the way you looked when Harry’s name was called is exactly how NaHui looked when my name got called.”

“NaHui?”

Cedric scratches the back of his head, “Sorry, Cho. She’s, well...the best to ever happen to me. But that’s besides the point. Look, just. Give Harry his broom, please.”

Draco wants to refuse on the sheer fucking principle, but Cedric is starting to leave so instead he grabs the kid’s cloak. Cedric is nice. Cedric kept Fleur from killing Harry on the night the Champions were announced. Draco _owes_ Cedric.

“If we’re trading advice, watch out for that William kid.”

“Willie?” Cedric snorts. “He’s perfectly harmless.”

Doubtful, but who is Draco to argue with his upperclassmen? On the Sunday before Exams? When he has a study session with Hermione in ten minutes? He’s no one.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Exam week nearly kills him. 

The temperature drops something awful on Monday, some sort of overnight storm leaving snow-filled _everything_ and miserably freezing students. There’s snow outside, inside, on people’s hair, leaking into their bags, ruining their essays when it melts under a warming charm. Ruining _Draco’s_ first draft of his Transfiguration essay. Yes, he’s fucking pissed about it.

Monday begins at 9:45 sharp for his Astronomy exam, followed by Charms and a brief lunch break that quickly turns into a study break for the end of the day DADA Exam. By time Dinner rolls around, Draco’s dead to everything but his notes. Blaise and Pansy steer him to the Gang’s Room, where he becomes aware of Hermione’s notes and some voices around them.

“Are they okay?”

“Don’t touch them yet. At ten Pansy will take away their papers and I’ll steer Draco to the showers and to bed.”

“I can probably get Gin to take care of ‘Mione.”

“Or Lavender, her and Parvati have always been sort of motherly.”

“No, they just like sleeping. Which you do too, Ron.”

Draco tunes them out from there and does protest something fierce when a manicured hand removes his notes. “Hey! I wasn’t done with that!” He roars, turning around to glare.

Only Pansy is nowhere to be seen, and he ends up staring right at Harry curled up in one of the armchairs. That softens him up, partly because _fuck that’s cute,_ but also because he’s very tired and would very much like to go to sleep now. 

“You’ve been quizzing me on History facts so much it hurts. I’m going to bed now, are you coming or staying until I have to drag you?” Blaise sounds like he’s two seconds from falling over, so Draco nods. 

“Go ahead, I’ll be there in a second.” He then ignores whatever his best friend is saying so he can walk over to Harry and gently lay an arm on his shoulder. Shaking lightly, brushing his hand down a bicep, Draco whispers his name until green eyes flutter open.

“Hi.” Harry smiles at him, all soft and lazy. “You don’t look like a zombie anymore.”

“Afraid not,” Draco chuckles, “My skin is a little too perfect for that. Rotting flesh and maggots don’t do it for me.”

Harry yawns back, “You’re skin is pretty perfect. A little on the pale side, though.”

Draco bites his tongue so he doesn’t do something stupid like call Harry beautiful. He is though, all caramel skin and pretty eyelashes. Fuck, Draco _really_ needs sleep. He shakes Harry just a bit more.

“Come on, sleeping beauty, we all need to go to bed. Can’t fail that Herbology test in the morning.”

“Plants are cool,” Harry agrees. They stand up and walk to where Blaise and Ron are waiting, Pansy and Hermione behind them. Draco hands Harry off to Ron, hugs Hermione goodnight, and then lets his own friends tug him down to the dungeons.

He gets a grand total of six hours of sleep before he’s dragging himself out of bed and to breakfast. Theo, surprisingly an even bigger plant person than Blaise gushes about how excited he is. “I’m a plant gay, you know?”

Draco does not know, but the written exam for Herbology doesn't matter nearly as much as the 

Practical exam, so he hangs onto Theo’s every word for dear life.

Once Herbology is over, it’s History of Magic. Given that his family library holds more information than Binns himself, Draco’s not particularly worried over it. Lunch is easier knowing Potions is next, and yes, Snape is still irritated about Draco’s sudden interest in his sex life. But, Potions is one of Draco’s favorite subjects. And he makes a point to be _fucking perfect_ just to make his god father proud.

But then it’s back to the Gang’s Room because on Wednesday they all have Transfiguration. The last core class, and in Draco’s opinion the hardest because McGonagall is an even harder grader than Snape. 

After a brutal Transfiguration Exam that leaves him a little confident and a little dazed, Draco marches on to the Care Of Magical Creatures Exam, which he knows he passed, but he’s at best hoping for an E. He really has no idea what’s happening in Hagrid’s mind, but it doesn’t matter because the after lunch exam is Ancient Studies, and then he and Hermione have to meet up and study for Thursday.

Thursday, like the rest of the week, is hell. Bright and cold and early, Draco sits his Ancient Runes exam, and then spends the rest of his day studying for Arithmancy.

As soon as that’s done he doesn’t even eat. He blinks once in the classroom and then he’s being cornered by a girl that looks a lot like Daphne, only she’s wearing Ravenclaw robes, so it must be Astoria.

“I’m sorry,” Draco slurs, “You’ve caught me at a rather bad time, what were we talking about again?”

Astoria sighs, like it pains her greatly to repeat anything she’s said. To be fair, if she wasn’t from such a powerful family, he’d be sighing in the exact same way. “Look, Malfoy. I heard from Luna that you’re a decent fellow, so I’m offering you a trade.”

“A trade?” Draco tries to focus on her words. What could a Greengrass possibly want with him? Their families are equally powerful, almost on friendly terms, kinda. At least Narcissa doesn’t make an effort to talk shit about them.

“Yes, a trade. It’s rather simple. I just need you to take me to the Yule Ball.”

That wakes him up. “Excuse me? Why would you want _me_ to take _you_ to the ball? I’m taking Luna. And I’m a Slytherin.”

Astoria rolls her eyes, “Yes, I’m perfectly aware what house you belong to. The very house that my family wanted me in, this is the entire point. You take me to the ball, it makes my family happy, it makes your family happy. We part ways after a few photos as business friends in the future.”

“But...why?”

“I need to make a name for myself if I ever want to prove my worth to my parents, and I’m about sick of them undermining me. Even Daph is annoyed by it. So, will you help me or not?”

She speaks way too fast for him to fully comprehend, but he nods and smiles anyways. Having a Greengrass in his debt would be _beautiful,_ especially if he could use the chance to lure them to the light side. And if he goes with Astoria, Harry can take Luna. That’s like three birds, one stone. Perfect.

“Yeah, sure I’ll take you to the ball.”

“Wonderful, you should um...” She takes a second to cover her mouth, but just because Draco can’t _see_ her laughter doesn't mean he can’t _hear_ it. “Get some sleep, Malfoy.”

“Yes, yes, you too.”

He’s not fully aware of what he’s just done, but he’ll work it out later.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You can’t keep doing this year after year.”

“Doing what?”

Ron gives him a look. “Worrying. It’s only been a day, mate. We both know he gets exactly like Hermione. Give him another five hours, Blaise will probably drag him down to the room. If he’s not there by the time Hermione resurfaces, then we worry.” 

Yeah, okay. Sounds reasonable, if Draco didn’t look like a zombie this past week Harry might even buy into it. Only, Draco looked worse than Hermione. Or maybe that’s because Hermione’s dark skin sometimes hides her bags, and Pansy’s been leaving her little scrunchies that she turns red and gold so her hair doesn’t get as messed up and abused. Bags show up on Draco’s pale skin like ink on parchment paper. His hair is falling a little above his shoulders, which means for the past week Harry’s had to watch him twirl and twist the pale gold locks as he studied. 

It’s been pure fucking torture. 

But not as awful as watching him cling to Blaise’s side while Blaise tries to force him into the Gang’s Room.

Granted, Blasie looks torn between disgusted and amused, and Draco falls from his arms to Hermione’s shoulder, so it’s not all that bad. Hermione likes Ron, or maybe Krum now, either way there’s no possible emotions for Draco so Harry’s very happy with the trade off. He shakes himself for being jealous of Blaise, and then turns to discuss the following week when Pansy bursts through the door.

“I have news!”

“News?” Draco mumbles. “You can’t have news, it’s not breakfast time.”

Pansy rolls her eyes, but does take a second to pat her best friend on the head. “Well, you’re right. We can call this a late night segment.”

“Will you get on with it?” Ron groans. He gets a single manicured nail salute before Pansy continues.

“So there I was, the only Slytherin in our year at breakfast,” Pansy makes a point of glaring. Draco’s too out of it to notice, Blaise just doesn’t care. “And who came to rid me of my lonesome? Why Fleur, off course. And apparently, she’s finally gotten a date, and I asked if she knew what she wanted her dress to look like yet, and she said ‘no’, so I threw around a couple of suggestions, and _she asked me to make her dress!”_

“Did you say yes?” Hermione asks, she’s been raging about how excited she is for _her_ dress since exams ended. 

“Of course I did! And since I’m now making Fleur’s dress, I offered to make Luna’s. Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘Pansy, you just finished exams and making outfits for our entire group, now you’re adding two more dresses?’ And the answer, my dear idiots, is yes. But not just two dresses, no, I have bigger aspirations than that.”

Ron shares a wide-eyed look with him. Harry gets it, he’s also a little scared. Draco’s starting to wake up, Hermione seems thrilled, Blaise rolls his eyes.

“So, since I’m already making two of the Champion’s outfits, word spread. And by lunch Cho Chang had asked me if I had any suggestions for her, so naturally I offered to hand select their outfits, because I’m wonderful and kind and the best seamstress _ever._ I’d like to be able to make them too, but Cho wants something traditional and I have no time left. I also offered to make Krum's, it’d be rude not to, and though he didn’t accept because he’s going traditional, I did find out his color scheme so I can make sure the two of you match, Hermione. Which reminds me, _you!”_

She turns her full force glare on Harry, narrow eyes turning to slits. “Get. A. Date. Or I _will_ make you look like a clown. Do you understand me?”

“Take Luna.” Draco yawns, finally sitting up instead of using Hermione’s lap like a pillow. 

“I thought you were taking Luna?” 

“I was, but Astoria Greengrass wants to use me to make a point. She’s a lesbian, Pans, I promise we’ll end up dancing before the night is done so please don’t make that pout at me when I’ve only just woken up.”

“I’m not pouting,” Pansy pouts, “This information just would’ve been nice to know _before_ I planned out Luna’s dress to match your tux. It’s fine. I can do a few modifications. I’ll bully Daph into telling me Astoria’s measurements, and Harry, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you and Luna look just as lovely as the others.”

“But.” Harry blinks. “I didn’t say yes to taking her.”

“Do you have anyone else?” Draco asks.

“No.”

Pansy smiles, “Great. You’ll be taking Luna.”

Harry spares one long look at Draco before he deflates. “Yeah, okay. I’m taking Luna.”

“Great! Now that that’s solved, someone tell me when we’re doing presents, because I’m going to need the entire Christmas day to get ready, and I refuse to do it after. I was thinking the twenty-fourth? Possibly the twenty-third?”

“No, no. The twenty-fourth would be best. That way you have enough time to finish your dresses and don’t have to rush,” Hermione answers, “Now all we need is a time and-”

Harry tunes them out, turning to Blaise who offers a game of exploding snaps that Harry is more than happy to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. sorry this chapter ended up being mostly summary. I wanted to get into the Yule Ball this chapters, but exams, and I wanted to show you all what Narcissa's Monthly Check-Ins look like, also there's a reason I have Pansy making everything. Anyways, hope you're prepared for me to spend entire paragraphs going on detailed illustrations of formal robes. because I made pintrest boards to get ideas of everyone's clothes and it's going to be magical.


	16. The Yule Ball Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco smiles even though it’s a tad bit painful. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, this chapter got so freaking long so I had to cut it in half lmaooo

“Wake the fuck up.”

Another pillow hits his face, LuLu huffs and suddenly the warm spot to his left is gone, but the assaulter isn’t.

“I swear to Merlin, Draco, if I don’t have time to finish my dresses it’s  _ your  _ head I’m going for.”

Ah fuck, Blaise let Pansy in the room. And if she’s here then-

“Not to be rude, but is that really the best way to wake him up?”

There’s Millie.

“Is she going to kill him? I feel like I shouldn’t be here to witness this, deniability and all that.” 

And Theo? Why is Theo in his room? Snape’s working on getting the asshole moved, but surely he hasn’t been sleeping  _ that  _ long.

“Nah, she won’t kill him. Maim, sure, but never kill.”

“Don’t say that Blaise, I might kill him one day and then you’d be wrong for once.”

Draco groans himself into life, forcing the pillow suffocating him away and sitting up to a room full of people. “If you kill me you won’t be able to design my wedding tux.”

Pansy smirks from the side of his bed where LuLu is happily perched on her lap. “I have Blaise for that. Now hurry up and get dressed, I have fabric to buy, and I can always design the tux for your funeral if you make me late.”

Draco watches her go, taking LuLu with her. Millie hums, all concern fading away. Theo at least looks mildly alarmed, but he follows the girls out so Blaise can hurry him up. He does it in the sweetest way possible, looking at his watch and commenting every other second. 

“Look at that, three seconds and you still haven’t moved. You’re trying to die today, aren’t you?”

Draco rolls out of bed, flipping his friend off just for the hell of it. 

“A full five minutes and you still don’t have an outfit. Did you wash up already? Or did I miss that in the midst of your whining?”

Draco sighs and makes his way to the bathroom.

“Ten minutes in the bathroom, but hey your hair looks pretty good.”

Draco ignores him, making his way to his closet and grabbing a pair of jeans and a forest green sweater. Pansy once made fun of him for liking Slytherin colors so much, but they just go  _ so  _ well with his skin. 

“Fifteen minutes, you know she tops at twenty, right?”

He tugs on his socks, makes sure his jeans are perfectly pressed and tucked up just enough so the cuff on his dragon hide boots will show when he walks. Then he grabs a Slytherin beanie, a black jacket, and his outer robes.

“Seventeen minutes, not bad, not bad.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Draco mumbles, then a little louder, “Winky?”

Winky’s smiling face pops into the room. She bows, grin at him, and waves at Blaise.

“Hello Master Draco! Mister Blaise!”

“Good Morning, Winky.” Draco begins, “We’re going out. We should be gone for at least five hours, would you mind wrapping the presents while we’re gone?”

“I’d love to!”

“Perfect. I wrote down which wrapping paper went with which gift on a piece of paper in my bedside table-”

“DRACO!” Pansy yells through the door, “HURRY THE FUCK UP!” 

Winky waves him towards the exit, “Go, go, Master Draco, Misses Pansy surly be ready to bust the door down, sir. Winky will take care of everything. Winky is a good elf.”

“Winky is the  _ best  _ elf.” Draco corrects her. 

Blaise nods in agreements, Winky  _ beams.  _ And then Draco rushes out the door with Blaise on his heels before Pansy can choke them. 

She drags them to a fabric shop nearly outside of the Hogsmeade limit first. The ground is thick with snow, Draco and Theo  _ both  _ have to cast warming spells for the group, but he has to admit that the shop is pretty cool.

A cute little bell dings upon the door opening, a sweet vanilla scent wafting through his nose as they step inside. There’s a few pretty lavender chairs right by the door, but Draco’s more focused on the rows and rows of fabrics. They go all the way up to the ceiling, which is far higher than it has a right to be considering the outside of the shop looks like a quaint little cottage. To the left is a fire he barely has time to take in before a woman is rushing out from behind one fabric rows.

She’s wearing a lavender sweater tucked into a tan skirt tied up in the front that looks  _ stunning  _ on her dark skin. Her shoes clack on the floor and when she spots them she tries to smile, but the pins she’s holding with her teeth kinda get in the way, so she makes a few wild gestures with her hands and then takes the things out. 

“Pansy!”

“Jass!”

Pansy rushes forward to meet her, her own long black braid swings almost in time with the girl’s long bunch of braids. They hug, squealing for a bit, and then Pansy turns back to the group, arm still around the woman’s waist.

“Everyone, this is Jasmine Blake, she’s one of the few seamstresses I trust and  _ always  _ has the exact fabric I need.”

Jasmine laughs, “Please, you flatter me. And who have you drug into my little shop today?”

“Well, the one with the sour face is Blaise, the one eyeing the silks is Theo, Millicent is the girl, and the one admiring your outfit is Draco.”

“Wonderful to meet you all!” Jasmine smiles. She moves forward to shake Draco’s hand and he does take a second to appreciate her long golden nails before smiling.

“Likewise, although I’m afraid we won’t be seeing much of each other once you find out of Pansy’s plans.”

Jasmine drops his hand to stare at Pansy, excitement twinkles in her eye. “You have plans?”

“Oh,  _ do I…” _

Draco excuses himself so the two can dive into whatever the hell ‘voile’ and ‘shantung’ is. They spend a total of three hours in that one shop, Draco floats from person to person. Millie spends most of the time listening to Theo fawn over new clothing ideas, Blaise reads by the fire. After an hour of boredom, Draco tries to find Pansy again, but he walks in on Jasmine working on a dress and is momentarily stunned.

It’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen. 

There are no straps, but a simple bodice that shimmers despite the lack of light. It makes a sort of heart shape, coming down to the waist belt in a deep v that’s filled with what seems to be fairy dust and butterflies. Despite the lack of straps, two sleeves of the same fae-like material hang in thin air, not sparkling but  _ glowing  _ like miniature candle lights are sown into the fabric. The belt on the waist is the same off-white as the top, but the skirt is what really gets him. Not blowing out like a ball gown, but thin and contained, like layers and layers of thin lace woven into those same tiny little candle lights. 

Jasmine sits on the floor, working on a train with that same magical stuff. The fabric falls off her hands like a waterfall, just looking at it gives him some warm feelings. 

Draco takes a step forward, Jasmine looks up.

“Oh, hello!” She wiggles her eyebrows, “Come to see what I’m working on?” 

“It’s beautiful.” Draco whispers. 

“I know.”

Jasmine stands to stretch, sending her pins floating in the air by her spot on the floor.

“It’s one of my wedding dresses, or the one for my fiance at least.”

Draco raises an eyebrow, “You’re getting married?”

“Yep! Her name is Angela, she moved here from the States two years ago, we met at the Three Broomsticks and well, we’ve been in love ever since. It was all rainy and calm, the street lights glowed that night in a way I’ll never forget. So I wanted to make out dresses from a fabric that’s reminiscent of that.”

“What’s it called? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Jasmine’s smile turns sweeter than honey. “That’s because Pansy made it. Last year, actually. She walked into the shop by accident, thought it was a bakery and she wanted a few scones. One strawberry, one turtle, and one lemon, but when she saw the fabric she all but lost it. Poor dear was going through something, though she wouldn’t tell me what, she did love the fabric. I let her work with me on an evening dress on day and she helped when she could since. She’s really amazing, you know. So much talent at such a young age is rare. But, she has it. One evening, I think it was around this time last year, she came in and we had tea. Angie told her how we met, and that we’d just gotten engaged, and a few weeks later she came back with that material.”

Draco stares at it all over again, seeing the shimmer of the glow and realizes he can see Pansy written all over it. 

“She calls it Banjjag-Ineun Bich, said she was naming it after her grandmother.”

Pansy pokes her head in the door at that moment, arms full of fabric and a calculating look on her face. “Is that the dress?! I haven’t had much time to come visit, but  _ look at it!  _ It’s stunning! You’ve done such a good job with the fabric!”

“Well I couldn’t have done it without you!”

And purely because he’s wildly impressed with his best friend at the moment, Draco relieves her of her fabric pile and spends the next two hours following her around and floating the growing pile of fabric behind them.

Eventually she gets the cuts she needs, places the fabrics back into their neatly pressed places and kisses Jasmine on the cheek.

“Come back to visit! And you better remember to take pictures of whatever you make of those.”

“You’ll see them on the front of  _ Witch Weekly, The Daily Prophet,  _ and  _ Wizard Fashion,  _ don’t worry.”

Jasmine laughs, gives Pansy one final hug, and then they’re back on the sidewalk and heading to Madam Puddifoot’s for tea. 

They make it back to the castle five minutes before dinner ends, so Draco skips the whole event and heads down to Snape’s room.

“You’re late. Nearly forty minutes so, I missed chocolate for this.”

Draco sighs, reaching into his bag and pulling out some candies. The nice chocolate ones filled with mint, albino strawberries, and raspberries. Snape loves red berries. 

He takes the offering with a half smile, settling down on his couch. “Good. Tea?”

“Yeah, I’ll take some tea.”

They talk for a bit about small things, and Draco does make a token attempt to find out more about Ellios, but Snape shuts him down and asks about his Christmas gifts for his parents.

“I got mum a new bracelet. It’s simple enough to wear everyday, a golden chain with crystals embedded in it. I had it imported from France, it’s stunning. And in the middle is this little crystal heart I made it into a portkey. The destination hasn’t been set yet, I wanted it to be somewhere safe just...just in case, you know?”

Severus nods, a hand coming out to reheat his tea. “A smart gift, pretty and practical as they say.”

“And have you gotten anything for Ellios?”

“What about your father?” He says in a rush instead of answering the question. 

Draco scowls. “My father?”

“Yes, you said a few months ago that you’re unsure of how you feel about him, have you had any luck in the matter?”

Draco sighs, but this doesn’t really seem like a tea-conversation situation, so he stands up and paces in front of the fireplace. How does he feel about his father now? Easy.

“I hate him.”

He frowns, “No, that’s not quite right. It’s….it’s complicated. I mean, on the one hand, he tortured me for nearly two years. And I know, it wasn’t technically his fault, but it’s not that simple.  _ He  _ was the one that hurt me,  _ he  _ took the knife to me,  _ he  _ is the one who I have nightmares about...it’s all him, you know?”

“But, on the other hand,” Draco turns to face the fire, “I can’t stop thinking about what it was like before. When he was just….dad. Not  _ father.  _ Not  _ Lucius.  _ Just...the idiot who got a cold because I wanted to go swimming in the winter and he forgot to give himself a warming charm...and at the World Cup. Why  _ did  _ he do that? Why would he help us? Sure, we’re just kids, but he  _ hates  _ the Weasleys. And Hermione isn’t a pureblood, he hates people who aren’t purebloods….but he still…” Draco sighs. “I don’t know....”

Snape joins him by the fire. 

“You need to take the time to heal. It’s only been a few months, not even a year. I’m not implying that you need to forgive him, but you need to heal from him. From what…” He swallows deeply, “From what he’s done to you. No one alive, there are no potions or spells or anything that can help you heal more than time can.”

“I think the worst part is that I don’t want to care about him…” Draco says in a small voice, “But Merlin, it’s hard not to. He’s...he was my dad for so long and then he was a monster and now he’s not even a monster...he’s a victim...and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

“Feel however you want. Whatever you’re feeling is okay for you to feel. There are many stops on the way to healing, and figuring it out helps sometimes. Ellios….they’re a mind healer. They can help you if you want them to.”

Draco gives him a look, “Why would they help me? They’re not a part of this school, they only know me because of you. I’m just some Malfoy brat to them.”

“Please.” Snape snorts, “You’re leaning Healing, aren’t you? Something Pomfrey won’t tell you is that once a person begins to heal, they can’t stop. They heal whoever needs them, and when Ellios saw you hug Fleur they liked you. You haven’t told anyone about the two of us to my knowledge, which gained you their respect. They will help you if you want them to.”

Draco turns his face back to the fire. Maybe he should get help...it couldn’t hurt to talk about it...and he’s sure he can find something on Ellios to blackmail them just in case…

“I’ll think about it.”

The next few days pass in a hurry. 

Pansy’s barely seen throughout them. Draco sees her once on Tuesday afternoon, asking a castle elf for some coffee, slightly dead inside and with little pricks on her fingers. Draco heals them, asks how the dresses are coming, gets a half response and a ‘thank you’ before she disappears again.

But before he knows it it’s the Twenty-Fourth and Winky is giving him a checklist. Blaise has already made his way to lunch, and Draco will have to join him soon. They’ve already given Theo a plant book to distract him, and since Pansy’s been gone so often he’ll be used to her absence. 

They make sure all the presents are ready to go, Winky’s already volunteered to bring them to the room. Draco makes a note to give her a few tasks here and there, her ears go all perky when he does simple things like ask her for tea, he wonders if she’s feeling a bit useless, he’ll deal with it later.

After that’s all cleared up, Draco makes his way to lunch where Pansy is gone again, and he keeps catching Harry’s eye. Lunch takes  _ forever  _ to get through. He eats light, the grapes, the berries, a few creme puffs. 

And then it’s time. 

He, Blaise, and Millie aren’t the first ones to the room, but it hardly matters.

Apparently, in Winky’s freetime, she managed to turn the entire place into a Christmas dream.

Instead of the desks and chairs he’s so used to, the entire room has been rearranged. 

The fire roars, and above it are ten stockings with initials woven into them. A tray of snacks sits on a nearby table, a few sets of pajamas float by the entrance. Pillows are thrown about on the floor, a low table big enough for all of them is pushed by the walls of books, sweets and drinks on top, a few armchairs that look incredibly comfortable are in the other corner and in the middle is a huge Christmas tree, piles of presents underneath it. The roof looks like a snowy Christmas sky, and the whole room smells faintly like cinnamon. 

Draco  _ loves  _ it. 

And to make the whole thing better, everyone’s here. Fred and George are playing some version of Exploding Snap, Ron and Ginny are arguing, Luna’s tucked under her arm listening to something that Harry’s talking about, and Pansy and Hermione are stacking presents into piles, making a dent in the huge amount under the tree.

They’re all wearing versions of the pajamas floating in the air.

“You’re here!” Pansy squeals. She places a red-wrapped box on a pile and rushes to hug them.

“Get dressed! Get Dressed!” Ginny yells over her.

Hermione approaches a little more calmly, but still hugs all three of them. “There’s pjs for you, I have no clue who put them there but-”

“Winky.’ Draco smiles. “I had no idea she was doing all this, I think it’s a sort of Christmas present.” 

“She can do that?”

“Of course she can.” Draco gives her a look, “Why wouldn’t she? She loves decorating rooms, and she made the Malfoy Elves new uniforms, so some sleep robes would be a fun pastime for her.”

“Truly, an elf after my own heart.” Pansy sighs, draping a hand over her chest. The twins snort across the room, but give the rest of them time to change in the rooms outside the Gang’s Room.

By the time they get back the little groups have dispersed and gathered around the tree, piles of presents around them. Draco takes his seat next to Harry’s pile, so they end up sitting knee to knee. He doesn’t miss the little look that passes between literally  _ everyone,  _ for  _ no reason.  _

“So, I know we usually start with sweets and chit-chat.” Pansy says, all smiles next to Hermione and Luna, “But I’ve been working my ass off the last few days, and I just finished and my hands hurt like a bitch so now we’re going to open presents because I deserve it.”

Draco rolls his eyes, reaching over and casting a quick espikey. “You’re a danger to yourself.”

“Like you’re one to talk, open your presents, asshole.”

They tear in all at once, but because he worries, Draco makes sure to watch them as they open their gifts from him.

Then twins open their little silver boxes first. Inside are two identical wristbands, overlapping in reds and golds, and on the inside are their names, each engraved with the finest of care. 

They hold them up, “Holy shit. This costs more than my entire life, I think.”

For a second Draco wonders if he got it wrong, but the twins grin, and then immediately swap bracelets so they have the other’s. He thought the gift was stupid at frist, but he’s never seen a friendship stronger than theirs. They look lost without each other, and now they never have to be apart.

Draco watches Hermione next.

It’s a plain square box with little owls flying around on the red wrapping, inside is one silver book. She looks around the room, a little confused, and then Draco smiles. 

“Tell it which book you’d like it to be.” Is all he says.

So she does, a simple  _ Matilda  _ later and she opens it back up, eyes going wide. “Did you get me a book that turns into any book?”

Yes, yes he did. Cost him a fortune too, but she doesn’t need to know that. 

Ron’s turn is next. 

Draco nearly misses him digging into his lion bag, but he sees the boy take out a Wizard’s Chess game made of marble. Harry warned him a few months ago about how Ron  _ hates  _ people spending money on him, so Draco came prepared and he’s  _ ecstatic  _ to see the game boxes. 

Figuring out what to get Ginny had been a nightmare. They aren’t close, sure, but she’s important to the people that are important to him so Draco made a fucking effort. Dresses and makeup seemed too girly for her, and yet Quidditch gear seemed too generic. He had to  _ think  _ for such a simple answer, but in the end Ginny opens her pink box, holds up the Holyhead Harpies signed shirt, and squeals. So, that’s another win in Draco’s book.

He’s not concerned over the Slytherin’s gifts, but he watches anyway as he rummages through a bag of sweets that Ron got him. 

Blaise raises an eyebrow at the knife wrapping paper, but one looks into the box and he’s fighting a smile. Not one, not two, but  _ five  _ plants that Draco can already see in their room. He had to order them at the start of December, and Merlin is Blaise happy he did. And the best part is that none of  _ these  _ plants can be a danger to him.

Pansy smiles at the cute little dresses on her tiny little bag. She holds up the silver bracelet, admiring the purple pansies that bloom on the chain. Then she notices the inscription and her eyes look up to twinkle at him. 위험한 작은 꽃, Dangerous Little Flower. The nickname from her grandmother. Pansy puts the bracelet on her left wrist and blows him a kiss.

Millie was so much simpler than he expected. 

A simple sweater that her mother used to own. Apparently, she had left it at the Malfoy Manor during one of his mother’s parties. She died before she could get it back, but Millie holds it up and once she sees the name embroidered on the inside she holds it close.

Luna was also simple, but that’s because Luna loves everything but hateful people, so Draco had gotten her a yellow Happi like the one her mother used to have. She throws it over her shoulders and continues chatting away with Ginny, but Draco sees the slight change to her body. The little bit of happiness lighting up her smile.

That’s everyone but Harry….

Fuck he’s so nervous for Harry. 

There were so many things he could’ve gotten the boy. New robes, new sweaters or shoes, Quidditch gear, something cool and magical, literally anything. He would’ve gotten him anything he asked for, but all the basic things weren’t enough, and Harry  _ rarely  _ asks for gifts. 

So, Draco had sent a letter to Sirius and Remus and a few days later he had the materials for a perfect gift. 

A locket, simple and not super expensive looking, though the old gold look is just to hide the fact that it was almost as much as his mother’s gift. Inside are two pictures, one of Sirius and Remus dancing in their kitchen, and one of Lilly and James dancing on their wedding night. Harry watches them move like he’s been transfixed, and then he’s reaching out to squeeze Draco’s hand.

And since all of his friends are content with their gifts, Draco decides to finish opening his. Candies from Ron, a few books from Hermione, new clothes from Pansy and Blaise, a few first releases from the Twins’s joke shop, a new medical book from Millie, a rememball from Ginny. Harry gets him a tiny figurine of a Firebolt, the one that looks suspiciously like the one from the World Cup center, and he laughs remembering how annoyed he was when Harry got his actual Firebolt.

The weird thing is that there’s no gift from Luna, which Ginny lightly calls out.

“Funny how I’m missing a gift.” She looks pointedly at Luna, who makes a little ‘oh’ sound and stands up.

“Almost forgot…” Luna sighs, waving her wand in the bookcase’s general direction. A few books fly forward and levitate by her. “My gift is a little different, everyone. I’ve been working on them since Harry’s comment…”

“My comment?”

“Yes.” A book flies to his hands. “You did want to learn about your ancestry, right?”

Holy fuck. She didn’t...did she?

“See, what you don’t understand is that everyone comes from somewhere. We had to get our magic from something, didn’t we?”

Hermione raises an eyebrow, “What are you on about?”

Luna smiles at her, “Magic, Hermione. All magic comes from somewhere, and us humans had to learn from something, didn’t we?”

The books all fly into place, even the Weasleys have their own books despite coming from the same family, and Draco already knows what’s in his.

“It’s a pureblood thing.” Ron sighs, glaring at his little book. 

Of course it is, all the purebloods know their heritage. They learn it from baby books as kids, read by grandparents or taught by fathers behind closed doors. Narcissa taught him most of what he knows, but the Malfoys are just as powerful and ancient as the Blacks, so his father had a fair amount to teach too. 

“A pureblood thing?” Hermione asks, “Why do I have one? I’m muggle-born, remember?”

Luna looks at her a little strangely, all confused and concerned. “You may be muggle-born, but your magic rivals Draco’s. His magical ancestry is an impressive one, didn’t you know?”

“It is?” Harry asks, looking Draco’s way. The twins snort, Pansy giggles. Millie rolls her eyes and Blaise makes a face. 

“My family is just as powerful, you know. Pansy’s is arguably the creepiest.”

“I dunno,” Pansy grins, “Shadow People and Sirens are a lot more dangerous than little ol’ spiders.”

“Spiders?” Harry asks while Hermione says “What the hell are you on about?”

“Just read your books,” Ron sighs, “And for the record, a family’s magical ties are supposed to be secret.”

“Don’t be such a prude, Ronnikins.” Fred grins.

George bumps his shoulder, “Luna already knows everything, there’s no need to hide.”

Ginny snorts at that, but Hermione looks increasingly frustrated. Harry just seems curious..

His hands shake, but they hold onto the pendant hanging from his neck and stare at the title written in Luna’s prettiest cursive.  _ Potter and Evans.  _ That’s how they always look, last names curved on the title, but never the intent, never ‘ancestry’ or ‘magical history’. That would just be too obvious.

Draco ignores his own  _ Malfoy and Black  _ gleaming in silver calligraphy to place a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Green eyes twist to look at him, and Draco smiles.

“Do you wanna dance? Last chance for practice, you know.”

And the answer is always; “Yes.”

Christmas morning, the morning of the ball, brings a commotion in the Gryffindor boy’s dorm room. 

Seamus and Dean have trouble because their ties are apparently different shades of orange, and Dean’s suit is a different shade of black than Seamus’s but Harry honestly can’t see the difference. Neville doesn’t know how any of his robes work, and from what Harry’s seen he cares more about the gifts waiting at the end of his bed than the ball, which is fair. 

And then boxes appear literally out of thin air on Ron and Harry’s bed and Seamus nearly trips because of it.

“What are those?”

“Um...surprises?”

They try to pry, they really do, but Ron’s need for breakfast triumphs Dean’s need to know things, and Neville is excited about pancakes so it’s really three against one. Seamus half-way sides with his boyfriend, but once pancakes are mentioned he grab’s Dean’s hand and says ‘honey, you didn’t match your tie, you can at least come with me to get pancakes’ and Dean is won over.

Hermione’s excited, of course, she’s never gotten to dress up like this before and apparently Lavender and Parvarti are helping with her hair.

“My mum sent me some relaxer to deal with it.”

“What’s a relaxer?” Harry asks.

Hermione points to her hair, “Do you see how frizzy and dead it looks? If I had an afro like my grandma it would be different, but it’s like...I got a mix of my mum and dad’s skin, and their hair too. Does that make sense?”

“Sure.” Krum answers, but Ron nods like he gets it and doesn’t even make a face at the whole scene before him, which is impressive. Krum has been sitting with them since the first task, and at first Harry really thought he was going to have to hold his best friend back from punching the boy. But after a few conversations Ron came around, he usually does.

They finish their brunch and head back up to the dorm room to open presents. Yes, Harry is excited to open his, but he’s honestly more shocked to  _ have  _ more than one. Usually it’s just a package from Molly, but beside the lumpy parsal that contains his usual sweater are two boxes with little dogs and wolves on them. He knows from the package alone who they’re from, and because he’s a sentimental little shit, he saves a square of the wrapping paper before looking inside.

The first box holds a simple broom cleaning kit and a box of chocolate, but it’s the second box that gets him. The locket Draco got him means the world because it’s his  _ parents.  _ His actual mum and dad. The people he never got to hold and love, and with them? Remus and Sirius. Remus who has been helping him for a year, Sirius who he loves like he’s known the man the entire life. The two people who have cared for him since the moment they met him. But this…

It’s a photo album. 

Of his parents.

But not just as adults, the very first picture is of his dad, a young boy with big round glasses and shaggy black hair in Gryffindor robes grinning at the camera. He laughs, holding up a peace sign, and the picture resets. Under the photo is a simple  _ ‘James Potter, October 1971- Taken by Sirius’ _

Harry flips through a few more, one of his mother holding flowers in 1974, a picture of Sirius and Lilly with something on their faces in 1975, Remus yelling at James in the library, the whole gang, Pettigrew included, covered in goo, the picture taken by his mother. He’s never seen her handwriting before…

“Mate?” Ron plops down beside him, “Are you okay? It’s nearly three, we should start getting ready soon, or Seamus will kill us.”

Harry tunes back into the world around him to Seamus huffing about Dean’s tie while trying to fix it. 

“Yeah…” Harry’s hand goes to the locket on his chest involuntarily, “You’re right.”

Time apparently flies when you’re staring at your parents. 

Ron brings his box over so they can appreciate Pansy’s work together, and they’re probably the prettiest suits he’s ever seen.

Ron’s robes that once reminded Harry of something Aunt Marge would wear as ‘lingerie’ are now a deep maroon, coat brought in to bunch at Ron’s waist and fall open to his mid thigh. His shirt is a light peach, tie still frilly but less in a ‘curtains grandma probably had before she died’ way and more of the ‘Victorian Dress magazine Aunt Petunia likes’. His slacks match his coat, his shoes that were once an old dingy brown are actually black after being cleaned and polished. He looks….good. 

“Holy shit, Ron.” Seamus whistles. Dean gives him a look.

“I told you we should’ve gone with salmon, but no. You wanted burnt orange.”

“It looks so good on you-Harry? What’s that?”

Harry looks down at his own box. He’d been so focused on getting Ron ready he nearly forgot about his own outfit. He shrugs, gently removes the top of the box with his name etched in a pretty green color and takes a second to raise an eyebrow.

“Um, right, so. I’ve never actually had to wear one of these? Like, I’ve seen my uncle wearing them but muggle clothing is very different and-”

“Oh, Godric.” Neville sighs. Seamus sets Dean’s now matching tie down and strides over. Between the two of them, Ron, and Dean he’s pretty much surrounded. He doesn’t even get a chance to look any of the material over before Seamus is shoving pants at him and telling him to go put them on. Neville meets him in the bathroom with his things, Dean’s waiting just outside the door with an undershirt while Seamus takes his time appreciating the material and then a vest is put on him. Someone hands him a coat, Ron bends down to tie his tie and then before he can blink or really figure out what the hell is happening Dean shoves him in front of a mirror in the bathroom and pats his back.

“Holy fuck, dude. You clean up nice.”

“Thanks.” Harry says, still trying to catch up, “It’s my friend’s-holy fuck.”

It looks like him in the mirror, kinda. More of an alternate reality him, that is.

Neville turns him around before he can get the full effect, and there’s a lot of tugging at his hair, Ron comes in with a two hour warning, stops to stare, and then shoos Neville out to finish getting ready. He takes their friend’s place, his hands are a lot gentler and for a second Harry thinks he’s actually getting a head massage.

“I’d spend more time on your hair, but I promised to help Gin with hers as soon as I got ready.”

“You’re doing Ginny’s hair?”

Ron nods, still doing  _ something  _ with some product to his black curls.

“Yeah, I learned to braid when Bill decided to grow his hair out, and since Ginny was younger and mum was always busy I kinda ended up learning a lot about hair. This one time she wanted to have a tea party, I think she was feeling lonely because Charlie and Bill had just left and Perc was starting his first year here, so I did her hair and the twins made a little make shift dress from their curtains and we all sat in the garden with the gnomes and had tea. It’s just one of those things, ya know? Anyways, I was supposed to be doing her hair right now but the girls aren’t done getting dressed, so I was told to wait ten minutes and meet Gin in the common room.  _ This,”  _ He holds up a little tube that smells like honey, “Is something Lavender gave me. Said it helps tame curls and by Godric’s good name, I think it worked.”

Ron does  _ not  _ push him around, but gently turns him until he’s facing the mirror and holy fucking shit. This Harry really is from somewhere else. He has to be, there’s no way he’s looking at himself right now.

The tux isn’t black, but a dark grey with an intricate flower pattern dancing across it. Harry watches it for a moment, realizing that when he moves even an inch a light rainbow shimmers on the flowers, like Pansy had somehow captured one of those faint rainbows that are always after storms. The coat only has four buttons, so the light blue shirt under it can be seen but Harry gets a little distracted by the bottom that flows out from his waist to the backs of his thighs. His pants are of the same grey rainbow, pressed and perfect, with little black linings that match the coat and his shoes, not polished but enough to draw the eye. Really, it’s one of the only things he has that  _ fits.  _ And for once, he can see himself as...attractive. 

But, the weirdest part by far is his hair. Usually a black messy mop on the top of his head, the curls now hold shape, little circles that are slightly tousled instead of mangled and damaged. They cup his cheeks and ears, gentle yet bringing out a jawline he had no idea existed, and a softness he didn’t think he possessed.

“You look great, Harry.” Ron says in the mirror next to him, “There’s only an hour left, I’ve got to go help Gin, but if you wait I can walk down with you to get Luna.”

“Okay.” Harry hears himself respond. 

Ron leaves him alone in the bathroom, and he does touch his face and try to see if it  _ is  _ really him, and upon making the discovery that yes, the attractive teen in the mirror is, in fact,  _ actually fucking him,  _ he smiles. 

And then Seamus enters the room in a black tux with a ‘burned orange’ tie and vest.

“Here, look at me for a moment.”

Harry forces his body away from the mirror so the boy can put something on his lips. 

“It’s just chapstick, I wanted to wear makeup but I didn’t want anyone to be mean. Tonight is supposed to be about having fun, you know? Oh! Do you want me to do anything about your glasses?”

“My glasses?”

“Yeah, here, give them to me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, but he trusts the roommates with his life so far, so he hands over the opticals, squints to see what Seamus is doing, and then inspects them before putting them back on and appreciating the grey frames. Seamus didn’t change the shape, but cleaned them and changed the color to match his suit. Once again, he’s struck by how good he looks, but then Neville is calling for help and he and Seamus exit the bathroom.

They start the day early as fuck because he thought it would be a good idea to get ready at the manor, and since he’s nearly died because of Dumbledore a few years in a row now, the old man doesn’t say a word about them using Snape’s floo to visit.

Unfortunately, they can’t bring Millie because Theo would be upset, and if Theo doesn't know about Harry yet, there’s no way in hell Draco will risk his mother’s safety. 

He smiles at Snape, hands him a box filled with chocolate and potion materials, and then he, Blaise, Pansy, and LuLu step into the fire.

Narcissa is waiting for them with open arms. 

“Loves! How wonderful to see you all! Blaise, dear, your mother is waiting in the parlor and  _ Pansy!  _ I cannot  _ wait  _ to see how your robes turned out. Go say hello.”

She takes Draco by the arm, “You’re coming with me for a moment, love.”

“But mum! We only have a few hours before we have to get back!”

“The ball starts at seven, it is ten in the morning. You can spare a few hours for your mother, Dragon.”

Draco sighs, ignores the snickers from his friends, and follows his mother to one of the lounge rooms by the Malfoy Ballroom. The second he steps inside all his protests go out the window.

“Sirius! Remus!”

His cousin turns with a smile, making a few steps until he can hug Draco. Remus isn’t far behind.

“It’s so nice to see you here instead of through a fire.”

“I dunno, it’s comical to see your hair flicker.”

Sirius scowls, Remus chuckles. He gets the feeling they’ve had this discussion before. Draco turns back to his mother all smiles and then he sees his father sitting in the white arm chair.

Lucius looks healthier, less like the walking dead and more tired. He’s surprisingly in his ministry clothes, which means Narcissa must have regained some trust in him. That or he’s on a  _ very  _ short leash at the moment. Either way, Lucius smiles hesitantly, not saying a word but that smile is somehow enough. Draco stares for just a moment and then the door opens and Belle Zabini is strolling inside.

“Draco! How lovely to see you.” 

She’s always fucking  _ gorgeous.  _

Dark hair like a black waterfall over her tiny shoulders, muscular arms always on display in tight long dresses, today’s dress is lavender that works perfectly on her dark skin, Draco briefly wonders if Belle and Jasmine would get along, but he pushes the thought aside to kiss her hand. “Miss Zabini, I’m honored to behold you as always.”

“You never change, do you dear?”

Blaise rolls his eyes in the background, Pansy, however, is greeting Remus and eyeing up Sirius like he’s dangerous. Sirius, the ‘criminal’, sips from his rose tea cup and smiles at Belle, accepting a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was told the little Dragon has presents.”

“Presents?” Narcissa raises an eyebrow like he didn’t write her a ten page letter about the continents of his little black bag.

Draco suppresses an eyeroll and smiles, “Yes, I do. Would you like to begin? I told Winky we’d be here for a moment, she’s very excited to see our robes.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t help,” Pansy sighs, “I would’ve loved to know how she sows so fast.”

Belle sends Narcissa a look, but his mum just shrugs and they make their way to the living room closest to the kitchens. Narcissa has Sisily bring tea, and then the gift giving commences. 

For Sirius he’d gotten a watch from Italy. He’d planned on turning it into a family clock so the man would be less anxious about his and Harry’s adventures, but he’s run out of time.

Remus gets a new coat to replace the icky torn-up one he wears all the fucking time. This one is maroon, pressed and polished, and has ‘Remus Lupin’ on the back, and yes, Draco did stick a piece of paper that says ‘hopefully Lupin-Black soon’ on the inside, but that was more to make his old professor blush.

Belle, though he didn’t know she’d be joining them until a week ago, gets new roses that never die. Blaise makes noises about planting them in the garden and his mother actually pales a little bit. Draco makes a mental note to visit the Zabini house over summer to see just how  _ bad  _ Blaise’s plant obsession has truly gotten.

Narcissa  _ loves  _ her bracelet, holding it close to her heart and winking at him. He would’ve gotten her a necklace, but they have their matching diamond necklaces that are always on them, and Draco doesn’t plan on taking it off just because he wanted his mother to have a crystal necklace. No, the diamonds are fine.

He gets a few new medical books from the Zabini library to add to his collection, a dragon bracelet from Sirius, a new blanket from Remus (‘Because you keep complaining about how cold it gets in the dungeons when it snows’), a vial of Clarity from Severus, and a fuck ton of new clothes because apparently Narcissa decided his closet shoulder get bigger. They’re laughing at LuLu’s pile of presents when Lucius steps out of the room, and because Draco had a small box for his ‘father’ he steps out and finds the man looking out the window.

“I’m just getting some air is all,” Lucius says as he approaches, “Your mother has the elves keeping tabs on me.”

“As she should.” Draco begins, and then reels in whatever nasty comment was on its way out. He takes a deep breath, and then a small step closer. “I didn’t come out here to check on you, or make sure you aren’t up to something….look, I…” 

Draco takes another steadying breath, clutching the box in his hands. Lucius turns away from the window, facing him head-on and somehow that makes the whole thing worse. 

“I can’t forgive you yet. I know that, you probably know that. What you did to me will stick with me for the rest of my life, for Merlin’s sake I’m actually considering a mind healer just to get rid of the nightmares.”

Lucius looks so sad and for a second Draco can’t remember him before, back when they would smile and laugh, stay up too late playing games, drink hot chocolate and tell stories. Back when his father was strong and happy.

“I still hate you, if I’m being honest. But, you’re still my father. And as much as I want to curse you or put you in a full body bind, I don’t want to spend my life hating the man who meant the world to me.”

Draco holds out the little box, Lucius takes it with shaking hands and something changes between them. Like a bit of forgiveness draining out between the angry walls of hate. 

Inside is a small pendant. Originally it was just a narcissus, but Draco had found some spare metal and gotten Winky to help him mold a dragon around the flower. Lucius holds it in his hands like it might break, and then he looks at Draco with tears in his eyes.

“You don’t have to forgive me, and if you curse me I wouldn’t resist. I cannot forgive myself for what I have done, but I always have and always will love you. You’re my son, my little dragon...and I would do anything for you.” 

Draco smiles even though it’s a tad bit painful. “I know.”

There’s a split second where he considers hugging his father. He wonders if he would feel small and safe, or anxious and scared. But, before he can make up his mind Narcissa is calling them back. She doesn’t comment on the pendant hanging from her husband’s neck, but she does smile and hand him a small box that says ‘open when ready’. Then Pansy starts whining about needing to get ready and the calm that Draco had been feeling is replaced with dread.

The ball starts at seven, and it’s already four. 

Fuck. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, so I planned on posting this a hot minute ago and then I got sick, had a job interview, had to go look at apartments, and managed to get sun poisoning so how are you all? I am low-key dying. And because this is so long, literally fifteen pages, I decided to cut it in half. I'm also gonna link the pintrest links in the next chapter because I don't want to spoil anything for the dresses, also I'm very excited because next chapter there's nothing to distract me, no pre-anything, no Christmas to worry about, all ball and fun and hopefully nothing else dramatic will happen and I can get it out in a reasonable time.


	17. Yule Ball Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lights dim, chatter dies down, and McGonagall’s voice sounds throughout the ballroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'll be squealing by the end of this chapter :)

He’s never doubting Pansy again, the suit is probably the prettiest thing he’s ever owned, and that’s saying something because his entire wardrobe costs roughly the same as a manor. 

Every last piece of the material is soft and silky, which is also rare because in his experience, suits are always a little uncomfortable, but not this one. This one is perfect.

The tailcoat is navy, with a pattern of dragon’s breath flowers going up the front crease that’s left unbuttoned so the clothing under it can be seen, particularly the silk vest made of a similar fairy-like material from Jessica’s shop. Instead of lights woven into the fabric, Pansy has chosen silver flowers that complement his tailcoat. Light and flowy, with a bishop sleeve that ties at his wrist and flows over his hands, because Pansy knows how likely he is to take off his coat during the evening. 

Everything has a complement, now that he thinks about it. The shoulders of his coat are low so that the high collar and beautiful silk tie can be seen, his navy pants are cut just the right length to show off his silver and white shoes. Dragon flowers seem to dance from his jacket to his vest, and though his tie is a bit old fashioned, it brings an air of sophistication he usually reserves for Malfoy Parties. 

Every fiber of the suit leaves him looking like the prince from his fairy tales.

Draco slips on a few silver rings, makes sure his diamond necklace can’t be seen, that his hair is perfectly tied back with a little strand out and tucked behind his ear. He puts on some chapstick, gives himself a long once-over, appreciates how  _ good  _ his ass looks, and walks out the door. 

“Oh darling!” Blaise whistles as he comes down the steps. Draco winks at him, bows at the oohs and ahhs coming from the adults surrounding them. 

Narcissa cups his cheeks with little tears in her eyes, “You look so handsome, love.”

“Literally like a prince.” Sirius comments.

“Like,” Remus continues, “Weirdly like a prince, are you sure you can’t royalty?”

“We’re not.” Sirius and all three of the Malfoys answer. Draco rolls his eyes, listening to Blaise’s footsteps near him. 

“You might as well be.”

“Please,  _ you're  _ the one that clearly came from a fantasy.” 

Pansy’s dressed Blaise just as elegantly, a beautiful twist on a classic black suit. Golden spirals decorate his cuffs, his collar, the lining of his open jacket, and the very tops of his shoes. His tie is different from Draco’s, a butterfly bow-tie with long wings held in place with an emerald jewel. Emerald boots that click on the ground when he walks. 

They could be princes from neighboring kingdoms for the night. They certainly look the part. And if they’re the princes then Pansy must be-

“Dear Merlin,” Narcissa breathes, a small smile forming on her lips.

Draco and Blaise turn around, just to be stunned. They may be the princes at this ball, but there’s no denying that Pansy is the princess.

She smiles as she comes down, dark hair cascading down her left in delicate curls, and her  _ dress.  _ Holy shit,  _ her dress. _

A sleek tan bodice made of fucking  _ stars  _ clings to her curves, coming out like wings on her sides that start at her hips and flow onto the steps. Her sleeves are completely see through, stars twinkling on lace and bunching at her wrists. Because she isn’t shining enough, she holds the right side of her skirt up to show off her crystal heels. 

“Stunning.” Draco greets her at the stairs, offering a hand down the last few steps, he takes a moment to appreciate the shimmer eye-shadow and glossy lips smiling back at him.

“Oh! You wore your hair just the way I imagined, it’s perfect, love. And you!” She turns to Blaise, “It fits better than I thought. Oh, you both look so lovely.”

“So do you,” Belle approaches, the rest close behind, “Your mother is going to be so upset she missed this for a business trip.”

“You’ll send her a picture, won’t you?”

Narcissa already has a wizard’s camera in her hand. “You’ll have to move, show off your shine, dear. And might I say, you’ve grown to be more beautiful than your grandmother.”

Pansy beams with pride, pulling Draco and Blaise in for the photo. They laugh, Pansy shows off her dress, the boys take pictures with and without their jackets, and then Draco finally has enough and kisses his mother on the cheek.

“You’re going to make them late, Sissy,” Sirius sighs, patting Draco’s shoulder. He hugs the boy, hands him off to Remus for a hug, and right back to Narcissa for one final goodbye. 

Blaise kisses Belle’s cheek, Pansy shakes everyone’s hands, hugging Belle and Narcissa both. And then Draco turns to his father.

“Write soon?” Is all he asks.

Lucius smiles softly, just like the man from all those years ago. Strong, soft, safe.  _ Happy.  _ “Of course. Go, have fun, and  _ be safe.  _ All of you.”

If Blaise and Pansy are surprised, they hide it well. Not a word is spoken until they’re back in Snape’s office, LuLu in tow. 

“That was…..”

Draco cuts them off. “We’ll deal with it later. If we don’t hurry we’ll be late.”

Snape let’s them leave the few items they brought back in his room, probably just to get them out faster. As soon as Draco kisses LuLu’s forehead the three of them are out the door and rushing towards the first floor. 

Theo’s waiting with Millie and Astoria, annoyed and red in the face despite looking like he’s just walked off the night sky.

Much like Pansy, his suit is made of stars, complemented by a black coat and slacks. Draco can just make out a line of abs beneath the shiny silk shirt. It’s  _ great  _ to look at, but his face…

“Where  _ have  _ you been? Have you any idea what time it is? We’re going to be late!”

“And for good reason,” Pansy rolls her eyes, “Calm down, love, your face is all blotchy.”

Theo looks one second away from making a scene, but Millie grabs his arm and shakes her head, Pansy’s done a wonderful job on her dress as well. Simple, yet perfect for the girl if you know her. Millie hates fancy things, dresses, makeup, the whole ordeal annoys her, but she looks beautiful. A periwinkle mermaid cut, hanging off curves that he honestly had no idea she had. Like seriously, he knows she works out and all, but he had  _ no idea  _ she has an hourglass under all those big sweaters. He takes a second to compliment her jewelry, a v shaped silver necklace that hangs off her collarbones, and some simple dangle earrings, and then turns to kiss Astoria’s hand.

“So sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Nonsense,” She eyes him up, “I hate to compliment you, but you look like a prince tonight.”

Draco smirks, “And here I thought I looked different from normal.”

Pansy hits him on his shoulder, but Blaise is laughing so he takes it as a win and steps back to properly look at his ‘date’. 

Apparently, couples should match, which explains why her traditional ball gown dress is navy, but instead of flower  _ patterns  _ she has actual dragon flowers on the bottom on her skirt, dancing up the sides and on her belt.

“If Pansy weren’t next to me I’d call you a princess.”

“Yes, I agree. Though I think you insult her with such a title.” Pansy raises an eyebrow, but Astoria just smiles. “Queen is much more befitting.”

Pansy links arms with her, “I know Draco is supposed to be your date, but if you’d like a dance-”

“Excuse me,” Draco steps in between them, “Don’t we still have to get Millie’s date? And Blaise’s for that matter? Moon over Astoria on your own time, love.”

Pansy glares at him, but does take Theo’s arm and begin walking towards the doorway. 

Astoria smiles at him, “I hope you know I’ll be taking her up on that offer.”

“If you're going to sleep with my best friend, at least let her dance with me before the night ends. I’ll settle for a quick waltz, we only have until midnight you know.”

“Have you not heard?”

Draco raises an eyebrow, watching a Durmstrang boy bow to Millie before taking her arm. Across from them Blaise is smiling at who appears to be Alice.

“The Beauxbatons' are throwing a party tonight, nearly everyone has been invited. I’m surprised, I thought you and Fleur were close?”

“We are. She’s family, but I haven’t exactly been available the past week and she’s very spontaneous. I’ll probably hear about it sometimes tonight.”

“Planning on stealing her away from her date?”

Draco snorts, “Naturally.” 

Whoever decorated the Hogwarts’ Ballroom deserves a raise. Lights hang from the ceilings and walls like icicles, fountains of food line the back wall, the floor itself seems to be made of stone that reflects the night sky. It’s almost as stunning as Pansy’s creations, but because they’ve arrived so late they have to push through the crowds to be at the front.

No way in hell is he missing Harry’s entrance.

The lights dim, chatter dies down, and McGonagall’s voice sounds throughout the ballroom. 

“Please welcome the Triwizard Champions.”

He’s  _ so fucking excited.  _

“From Beauxbaton's Academy of Magic, Miss Fleur Delacour and her date, Ronald Weasley.”

_ Holy fucking shit-  _ Draco needs a few years to get over  _ Ron  _ being  _ Fleur’s  _ date, and then a few more years to get over how  _ good  _ they look together. Next to him, Pansy is _very_ annoyed.

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell me! I could’ve matched them!”

But they match beautifully, Ron’s maroon suit looks  _ nothing  _ like the fourteenth century dress robes they once were, and next to him Fleur is…

Pansy would find a way to make her even more beautiful. 

Her gown is pale pink, not skin tight, but hanging from her waist like water. A cape of the same pale blush is clasped in a tall collar on her throat, pressed down on her shoulders and flowing like long sleeves of lace. She looks like some sort of French god, and Merlin he’s nearly shining with pride. Fleur spots him in the crowd and smiles, making her way to her designated spot in the middle of the room.

“Merlin,” Draco whispers to Pansy while clapping, “Fleur is-”

“From Durmstrang Institute, Victor Krum and his date, Hermione Granger.”

Fuck, he was  _ not  _ prepared for Hermione. Her sweetheart bodice glitters with ruby flowers that line her tan dress, it comes in at her waist, similar to Astoria’s ball gown shape but the skirt is bigger, the train shimmering with roses as she smiles shyly at the crowd and her  _ hair.  _ Someone’s taken the time to get rid of the frizz, turning the normal mane of curls into sleek waves that fall down her back. 

“Fuck Pans, you really-”

“From Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Cedric Diggory and his date, Cho Chang.”

Draco knows Pansy didn’t personally design her dress, or Cedric’s tux, but they both look stunning.

Cedric is dressed in a traditional creme changshan, matching perfectly with Cho’s creme hafu. They look wonderful, like a couple meant to be together. Those two only have eyes for each other, kinda like McGonagall only has the timing to interrupt him.

“Oh! Next is-”

“Also from Hogwarts, Harry Potter and his date, Luna Lovegood.”

He sees Luna first, and holy fuck she’s never looked so beautiful. A trumpet dress with a light grey bodice, rainbow like silk starts at her thighs and comes out to complete the trumpet at the bottom. It’s perfect for her, all the colors on something no one would make a formal dress from. 

Draco’s about to compliment Pansy once again, and then he sees Harry and his mouth promptly falls open.

Mother of Merlin...he’s so royally fucked. 

The champions line up to dance, but Draco can’t take his eyes away. Even with the flashes of cameras and people whispering around him he can’t. Not when Harry looks like  _ that.  _ When his hair looks softer than ever, when his waist is fully on display, when he’s  _ shining  _ like the only person in the room. 

“Draco?” 

“Draco!”

He forces himself to look away, back at his date and Pansy. 

Astoria takes a step towards him, “Care to dance?”

“Yeah.” Draco manages, internally shaking himself. “Yes, I’m sorry. Let’s dance.”

The dance between him and Astoria lasts all of ten minutes before Pansy cuts in. Not that either of them mind, reporters got bored of their photo op within the first three minutes, Draco just hopes they got a good picture. 

“Where’s Theo?”

“With Justin.” Pansy snorts.

They swirl around cameras, looking over to the food and watching Justin Fletch-Fetchly blushing at whatever Theo is saying in his ear.

“They’ll be fucking by the end of the night.”

“That  _ is  _ the goal.”

Draco dips her, “We’re fourteen, love. Isn’t that a little early?”

“Not if he’s ready, and trust me when I say he’s ready.”

Pansy dances with him until they get hungry and go to meet Blaise and Alice by the tarts. Lemon, his fucking favorite. Granted, he barely gets two down his throat before Fleur taps his shoulder.

“Care to dance?”

No way in Merlin’s great name is he missing out on a dance with Fleur in  _ that  _ dress. He takes her hand and leads her out to the dance-floor, ignoring the camera flashes.

_ “Ron Weasley as your date, huh?” _

_ “You approve?” _ Fleur smiles,  _ “Since you’re so sweet on Harry I figured you wouldn’t mind, he was the only boy to ask without stuttering and I would feel bad if he was the only one of his friends who did not get to dance with the Champions.” _

_ “An angel, that’s what you are.” _

Fleur smiles, they pass Pansy and Astoria on the dance floor, moving over to Hermione and Krum. 

“You look lovely,” Draco whispers as he and Fleur twirl out and in.

He’s not sure if Hermione hears him, but then she smiles and says ‘you do too’ before Krum dances her away. 

When Fleur comes back to face him she rolls her eyes.

_ “It is so silly how you pretend to hate them, wouldn’t it be better if you could be with your friends freely?” _

_ “Yes, but that can’t happen yet. We must be enemies for now, wait until the time is right and all that.” _

Fleur considers this as they begin a waltz, quite like she’s trying to give Draco times to think, but he’s thought about it already. Yes, he is sick and tired of hiding his friendships, but he wants so much more than to just  _ talk  _ with Harry. He wants to run a hand through the boy’s curls, stare into emerald eyes, be the cause for a laugh, the reason behind a smile. Being open about a friendship and being open about how badly he wants to kiss his so called “enemy” are two completely different things. Even if he wants both of them so bad he can’t sleep some nights.

_ “Come to my party tonight.” _

_ “Party?”  _ Draco asks, like he didn’t hear about from Astoria an hour ago, like he wasn’t just thinking about green eyes. 

_ “Yes, I’ve invited all the schools to the carriage for a unity party. That’s what the tournament is all about, correct? Why we are all here? If you will not allow yourself the comfort of being with them- being with  _ him-  _ allow yourself this. It is okay to want happiness.”  _

They pass by the Twins, all smiles and laughter. Draco can’t get the image of Harry smiling out of his head. This topic is a little too heavy for a fun night.

_ “You didn’t need to beg, I’ll come to your party.” _

Fleur steps on his toes.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


So, dancing isn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

That or Luna is a  _ really  _ good dancer.

Harry’s money is on both. 

Though he does spend a good thirty minutes staring at Draco and Fleur while trying to connect a tart with his lips.

“A little up.” Hermione helps, guiding his hand.

“Honestly,” Ron sighs, “We went through all that trouble to get you all dressed up and you’re getting lemon all over your face.”

“Sorry.”

But he’s so not. Not when he gets to oogle Draco and picture what it would be like if he were in Fleur’s position. 

Krum comes to whisk Hermione away, and before he can ask Luna if she’d like to dance again, she’s off with Ginny. Oh well, he can meet them at Fleur’s party later. He’s turning to Ron to see if his best friend would like a dance when Cedric and Cho come up to them.

“Harry! Enjoying the tarts?”

Cho hands him a napkin. “You have a bit on your chin.”

Godric, how embarrassing. “Yeah, sorry I was just-”

“Looking at Draco?” Cedric asks, all casual, grabbing some punch.

Harry chokes. Ron, the traitor, laughs.

“I wasn’t-him?! No! I would never he-”

“Looks amazing in his suit? Parkinson did a wonderful job on the robes.”

Ron joins him in speechlessness.

“How did you know?”

Cho smiles. “Ravenclaws, we notice the obvious. And Ceddie here is a Huffle, they notice strong relationships. You shouldn’t count us out just because we’re not brave or resourceful.”

Harry is once again trying to find words when Cedric rolls his eyes and grabs his hand. 

“Come on, Potter, we’re dancing.”

He leads, and for some reason Harry has no issue following even though he was barely passing dance lessons with the Gang. 

“So, about you and Draco-”

“There is  _ nothing  _ between us but hate, and-and  _ meanness.  _ I mean, have you seen us? We very much dislike each other.”

“Sure you do.” Cedric drawls, “And Cho and I are just friends, Fleur is actually a brunette, and Krum definitely doesn’t know a few dark spells.”

Harry glares. “Your point, please.”

“My  _ point  _ is that you should give the gag up. It looks painful, afterall, wouldn’t you rather be dancing with him?”

Godric, yes. He hasn’t gotten to dance with Draco yet, and he can’t lie that it’s been featured in a few of his dreams. Like the one where they’re dancing in front of a fireplace, or in a garden at sunset. Sometimes he can feel the warmth of the boy’s body even after he’s woken. Feel the ghost of a hand on his waist, the faint fleeting touch of lips...

But all of that doesn’t matter because-

“He’s my  _ enemy  _ and I  _ hate  _ him.” Harry really hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. 

“You’re not very good at lying, do you know that?”

He is  _ painfully  _ aware. Lying has never been his strong suit, but deflecting always works. 

“Shut up. Dance me back to your girlfriend.”

“Okay, okay. All I’m saying is that you deserve to be happy, both of you. And if you’re happy with him then there’s no reason to keep up the act. If it gets tiring to watch, I can’t imagine what it’s like to  _ do  _ it.”

“You know what would make me happy? A lemon tart, also you’re about to hit the Twins if you don’t go more to the right.” 

Cedric laughs, but he does waltz them back to the tables and dances away with Cho like he gives relationship advice daily. He probably does, it seems like something he’d do.

“What was that about?” Ron asks, offering him a glass of punch. 

Harry wishes he knew.

He ends up dancing with a few more people. Ron, and then the twins, Ginny, Luna again, Cho asks for a quick one while Cedirc uses the restroom, Krum ends up passing him from partner to partner, which was a little awkward at the beginning but eventually made him laugh. Even Fleur demands a dance before he’s tired and fully ready to go to bed. 

But fuck, he agreed to go to the party.

Why does he always do this to himself?

Harry looks out to the crowd of dancers, spotting all of his friends. Luna and Ginny slow-dance next to Dean and Seamus, the twins are laughing with Ron and Fleur at the food tables, Hermione and Krum are tucked away in a corner talking quietly. Neville is surprisingly with Theodore Nott and Justin Finch-Fletchley, which makes no sense but he seems happy so Harry doesn’t interfere. Pansy and Draco waltz around the ballroom, looking like a pair of professional dancers. Millie and Blaise hang around their dates, and though it takes a second to find Cedric, he and Cho are still gazing into each other’s eyes. 

Everyone is fairly distracted, and there’s still thirty minutes until midnight. That’s plenty of time to catch a breather. 

He sneaks out the front door of the ball room, thankful for the cool air despite the snow outside. A light a few feet away catches his eyes, he creeps closer. 

“You must be more careful.”

Oh fuck, he’d know that voice anywhere. 

Harry ducks behind a pillar, peeking out to see Snape and Ellios, both dressed in black dress robes that appear to match. Did they go together? Like dates? Are teachers dating now? What has the world come to?

“I know.” Ellios sighs, “I have been dealing with him for years now, you would think I would be better about my control.”

Snape shakes his head, “You were right to do what you did. I don’t care how much Igor dislikes Potter, there was no need for him to speak of a  _ student  _ like that.”

What the fuck?

“I am surprised you did not say anything.” Ellios giggles. “He is one of your students, I know you do not take well to them being insulted.”

“Well, you beat me to the punch. Besides, Potter might be annoying but he hasn’t died yet. We need to stay on our toes if what we suspect is true.”

“We have known about His return for a while, have we not? Dumbledore is gathering allies, that is why he brought the Tournament back, correct?”

Snape sighs, “He hasn’t returned yet, not fully. There are rumors, whispers in the dark, but no one is sure. Dumbledore…..nothing is certain. Have you warned Willie?”

“Yes. After our first night I spoke with him…. he is frightened.”

“He shouldn’t be.” Snape smiles. “He’s a student, we won’t let our students suffer like they did last time.”

Ellios cups his face. “You were a student last time...we all were, Severus. You just wish for them to avoid the suffering you endure.”

Harry senses where this is going and decides now is a prime time to get out before he sees something he doesn't want to see, or hears something that confuses him even more than Snape having a heart. He sneaks further down the hall, fully planning on making his way to the Gang’s Room and having some hot chocolate when he runs right into someone’s back.

Warm hands wound around his waist, pulling him into a firm chest so he doesn’t end up on his ass. Harry’s rushing out an apology when a familiar cologne hits him. He’s had this dream before. 

“Potter.”

Grey eyes twinkle down at him, all happy and warm despite being the color of ice. 

“Malfoy.”

He tries to make his voice cold and distant, but it’s dripping with fondness even worse than his smile is. 

Not that Draco’s doing better, smile as soft as the silk on his shirt that Harry’s still clutching too. That realization hits him like a brick to the head.

He’s standing in the middle of an outdoor corridor, in the arms of his ‘enemy’ where anyone could walk by and see them. And yes, Draco is warm and smells good and  _ fuck he’s so pretty-  _

Harry feels his cheeks warm three seconds before Draco chuckles. 

“Relax, I made sure no one followed me. Had to make sure everyone’s favorite Scarface wasn’t up to anything.”

Draco releases him to take a step back, still smiling softly. Harry’s brain takes a second to boot back up, but then he’s stepping towards the boy with a grin.

“Just needed some air before Fleur’s party.”

“You’re going?”

“Aren’t you?”

Draco falls into step next to him, “Of course. What type of cousin would I be if I didn’t attend her party?”

Harry keeps his mouth shut so he can’t say something stupid, like call Draco perfect. But, if he doesn’t answer that could get awkward too so Harry bumps his shoulder as they turn a corner. 

“Going to follow me all night long?”

Draco raises an eyebrow. “Do you want me to go away?”

“What? No! Godric no, I was just um, well I was just getting air and-”

“There.” Draco points out into the night where a little white gondola is. Tucked away from the sight of the main track back to the castle, but close enough to hear music from the ballroom. “That’s a good place to get air. Do you need water too?”

“No,” Harry lets him lead the way, “Thank you, though.”

Godric it’s so awkward. And then he makes the mistake of shivering and Draco offers him an arm. “For warmth, I left my jacket inside.” From then it’s  _ wonderful.  _ Draco keeps him close, leading him around snow and bits of ice on the ground until they’re sitting on a stone bench, which is a lot worse because  _ fuck  _ his ass is  _ freezing  _ but at least he has Draco and music.

“You know…” Draco begins after a moment. “I think you’re the only one of my friends I haven’t gotten to dance with.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat. 

“I think you might be right...strange because I do remember you being the best dancer.”

“You were the worst.”

Harry looks away, just so Draco can’t see his blush. Not that he’s blushing, oh who is he kidding? He’s  _ definitely  _ bright red, but who can blame him? Out in the cold with one of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen, about to say something incredibly stupid.  _ Flirting... _ Sirius is going to be so proud.

“Maybe if you had taught me I would be better.”

Draco stiffens beside him, “Are you asking for a lesson?”

“If you’re willing to give it to me.”

Neither of them move, like they’re both frozen to the spot. Considering their next move, because if Harry is wrong this could ruin their relationship entirely. And then Draco slowly stands up, leaving Harry’s side cold, but bowing and extending a hand.

“I’d be  _ honored  _ to dance with you.”

What a sap, Harry loves it. 

He takes Draco’s hand, lets the boy pull him to his feet. It’s different from dancing with everyone else. 

Draco wounds one arm around his waist, he can feel muscles and heat with every movement. The other hand comes up to hold his, gentle and soft to the touch. Weird how his hands are so cold but his body is so warm. Harry’s heart is  _ pounding,  _ they take the first step. 

Draco takes it slow until Harry gets comfortable, and then picks up the pace. They dance around the gondola to the beat of music they can barely hear, hesitantly smiling, embracing warmth Harry didn’t really know existed. 

“You’ve gotten better.” Draco comments. His cheeks are red too.

“It’s my partner.”

“Yes, well...he’s perfect until the clock strikes midnight.”

Harry laughs, “Like Cinderella? When the clock strikes will you trade your prince robes for party gear?”

“Silly Scarface, my prince robes  _ are  _ my party gear.”

They laugh through a spin that Draco cuts a little too close, which means Harry ends up flush against him, nose to nose, chest to chest, heart to heart.

“Hi there.” Draco whispers.

Harry is going to get lost at sea if he keeps looking in those eyes. “Hi.”

The dancing slows to a halt until they’re swaying, still closer than they’ve been before. 

“Do you ever wish we could do this without hiding?” Harry whispers.

“Well it would certainly be  _ warmer.” _

He can’t keep himself from chuckling. “You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do. It’s very exhausting to pretend to hate you. You mean a lot to me, you know.”

The swaying stops all together. Cedric’s words echo in his head. It  _ is  _ exhausting to pretend. 

Harry’s eyes flicker down to Draco’s lips, then back up to meet his gaze. 

“Fleur…” Draco begins, “She said a few interesting things to me tonight.”

They’re inching closer, he can taste lemon tarts and sparkling punch.

“What did she say?”

Their words of slowing, Harry can count each of the stars shining in the taller’s eyes. 

“That I’m allowed to want happiness.”

Draco’s hand comes up to tilt his face up and then hesitates like he’s waiting for a ‘yes’ or ‘no’. 

Of course the answer is ‘yes’. 

Harry meets him halfway, pushing his head up through the inch that’s left and they’re kissing.

He’s been waiting  _ months,  _ no, at least a year to do this. Since last year when he realized how pretty Draco looks, even at the end of a hospital bed. Since he realized the boy is funny, and sweet, weirdly kind, and one  _ hell  _ of a kisser. 

Dammit all if he doesn’t pull Draco closer, deepen the kiss, chasing for  _ more.  _ More of whatever he’s feeling, more  _ happiness.  _ More Draco.

But, unfortunately, they both have lungs. And lungs need air, which means they have to break apart eventually. 

“You-” Harry pants, embarrassingly out of breath. 

Draco’s not doing much better, “Yes. You? I thought they were only looking at me!”

“Who’s they?”

“Pans, Blaise, Ron, Hermione, the  _ gang.  _ Did you not notice the looks they gave me every time we sat together?”

“Excuse you, those were  _ my  _ looks.”

Draco freezes, both eyebrows shooting up in disbelief , and then they’re laughing, pausing to kiss one more time and holy shit it’s the best part of his year.

All the times he totally almost died are completely worth it for this moment. 

“I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you tonight,” Draco mummers, brushing thick curls behind Harry’s ear, “You’re stunning.”

“You took the lines right out of my mouth.”

“I know, I know. I look like a prince.”

Harry laughs, “Full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Instead of answering Draco just kisses him again, bringing him in by the waist and smiling against his lips. 

It’s all very sweet and wonderful, a moment Harry’s only read about or seen in movies that he’s technically not allowed to watch. The midnight bells toll, smashing their little bubble to pieces, they jump apart like they’ve been burned. 

Wide green eyes meet wide blue eyes, they’ll have to leave soon, and after tonight all their worries will come spiraling back. But for now they can slowly come back together, revel in the soft glow of happiness, pull each other in for one more kiss.

“We should get to Fleur’s.”

Draco holds out his hand, “I’ll walk you.”

Harry looks at that hand, has so many memories of what an outstretched hand means between them. He’s half tempted to say ‘no, I can find it myself’ just to be funny. But instead he intertwines their fingers.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Where did you go?!” Blaise yells over the music, “Pans has your jacket!”

“I was busy!” Draco yells back, forcing his eyes  _ not  _ to look at Harry.

Of course, by trying not to look at Harry, he ends up staring right at the boy and smiling something awful. 

Blaise smirks, “Took you long enough!”

Draco barely hears him through the music, but it doesn’t matter. Tonight has been  _ wonderful.  _ Because looking the part of a fairy tale wasn’t enough, he actually got to  _ live  _ it. Got to laugh and dance with his friends, worries at the back of his mind. Got to eat his favorites, sees his parents, form some weird truce with his father

And then there’s Harry.

Getting to slow dance with him, hold him close and know that for a moment he wasn’t just safe, he was  _ happy.  _ They both were. When the two of them were alone in that gondola, there were no nightmares. No anxieties, no fear over how Harry would die, no worries about enemies that could lurk in the darkness surrounding their little haven. It was something Draco didn’t think he would’ve gotten to experience if it wasn’t for Fleur’s reminder.

He deserves happiness, and if it keeps trying to run from him, Draco will tie it down and stake it to his life.

Speaking of Fleur, he should probably look around for her. Not that it’s ever hard to find her, it’s just that Party Fleur tends to get out of hand and-

_ “Draco! My darling!”  _ Something wet slaps his cheeks, but he recognizes the voice,  _ “You made it! How wonderful, you’re very wonderful, the perfect little cousin…” _

Draco laughs a bit, turning to see that Fleur has stripped down to an under-dress, completely red in the face but smiling like there’s no tomorrow, behind her Alice and Ron watch on. 

“Sorry about my date,” Ron offers. 

Draco has to fight the friendliness off. Just in case someone  _ is  _ still sober enough to remember anything tomorrow. “It’s fine. Alice,  _ would you mind telling Blaise where we’ve gone? I’m going to get her some water.” _

_ “And Draco some alcohol.”  _ Fleur chirps in, dangling off his body like an oversize earring. 

_ “And myself some alcohol, apparently.  _ If you’ll excuse us.”

Walking with Fleur attached to his shoulder is more funny than annoying, but walking with a drunk Fleur when Pansy sneaks up on him is something else all together. 

“You made it!” His best friend sighs, adding herself to his free arm. “Took you long enough. She’s very drunk, you know.”

“You are too, where’s the damn bar?”

“By the speakers...Theo and Finch-Fletchley just left to fuck, you owe me ten gallons.”

“Have Thomas and Finnegan left yet?”

Pansy frowns.

Draco smiles.

“You owe  _ me  _ ten gallons.”

“Call it even?”

“If you help me with Fleur.”

Pansy sighs like it’s her worst task in life, but she does release him and appears at Fleur’s other side. Hauling her over to the bar with help is much easier, getting water from a Bebuxton boy is surprisingly difficult.

_ “She said to only give her alcohol,”  _ He’s pretty, almost Theo pretty, but he’s no Harry. Draco blushes, accidentally thinking about the kiss that’s still lingering on him, and then sighs.

_ “Fine then, a water for me and booze for her.” _

That the boy can work with, he doesn’t even bat an eye when Draco forces the water down his cousin’s throat and downs whatever is in the cup. It stings like bourbon but goes down like wine, probably some mix, but it’s good so Draco gets a refill and lets Pansy drag him out to the dance floor. 

Much different from the ball. Instead of eloquent circles, careful arches, and calculated steps everything here is sloppy and dirty. People jump up and down, some grind into each other, he’s pretty sure Millie is three seconds from having full out sex with her Durmstrang boy. Draco looks the other way for that one, casually flicking his wand their general direction and giggling when the boy looks a little confused. Call him over-protective, but he doesn’t like how the boy seems to hold Millie against her will. Besides, the confusion spell will only last a few minutes, long enough for his friend to get away if she wants to.

Pansy is in a playful drunk mood tonight, dancing Draco around in wild circles before attaching herself to Blaise. Draco watches them laugh and make funny little motions with their bodies before looking over and catching green eyes.

Why did they go to the party again? 

Oh yeah, for the burn of alcohol that’s missing from Draco’s throat.

He returns to the bar, and the Bebuxton Boy just gives him five cases of  _ something _ and a shrug,  _ “You’re related to Fleur, this should give you a nice buzz.” _

Draco returns the favor with a ‘thank you’ and a smile, and then makes his way to sneak out of the room. 

Hermione and Krum are kissing in a corner, which should make Ron jealous but the boy is a little too busy taking care of Fleur to notice. Ginny and Luna were exiled from the party, thank Merlin. He’d hate to watch his little cousin do anything like Blaise and  _ his  _ date are doing, not to mention Pansy who has abandoned her quest for booze and is currently trying to be sneaky about whatever her and Astoria are getting up to. He can’t spot Theo, but to be fair he can’t spot Finch-Fletchley either, and Millie is being handed water by Lavender Brown and the Patil twins. His own set of twins is missing, but he can’t figure out who they’ve gone with and when he realizes he’s being watched he couldn’t care less.

Draco casts one more quick look around, shrinking his bottles and putting them in his pocket. He makes sure all of his friends are safe and look happy, and then he sneaks out of the back door, down the ramp, and to the side of the manor-sized carriage. 

The door creaks open after a second, light footsteps follow his path, pausing at the ends of the stairs.

Harry looks around, spots him opening a bottle, and smiles. “Well, if anyone asks we  _ were  _ there.”

“Yes, we were just a bit late. It’s hard to get into a party when everyone else is drunk.”

Harry closes the space between them, opening the bottle in one quick movement. “I didn’t plan on staying long in the first place.”

“Oh? Did you have a different plan?” A bit of the boy’s curls are falling into his eyes, Draco has the urge to brush them behind his ear but he can’t- Draco’s eyes widen. He  _ can.  _ He can touch now, kiss now, do small gestures he’s been holding back on. Like brushing soft hair out of Harry’s eyes.

He feels more than he sees the blush. “Do you want to see Geia with me? I have a gift I wanted to give her before I went to sleep.”

Draco’s already leading him towards the castle, offering the bottle, keeping him close just because he  _ can.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Geia senses it before he can say it.

_ “You have finally made your move. I can smell the happiness radiating from the two of you, your scents...they’re beginning to mingle.” _

Harry rolls his eyes, blushing hard at the idea of his scent mingling  _ completely  _ with Draco’s. He shakes his head, he is _so_ not ready for that _that._ _ “We did, but I didn’t come here for that.” _

Geia sighs, she’s been teasing him about this since the beginning of their relationship, he’ll probably have to tell her all about it later. But, for now..

_ “I’ve brought you a present.” _

_ “Why?” _

He watches idly as Draco unshrinks another bottle, pulling them literally out of thin air and draining them. The boy-his boyfriend holy fuck- has already passed seven. Harry has no idea how he does it, he’s only had one cup and he already feels a little dizzy.

_ “It’s Christmas today. The 25th of December, it is a day to celebrate friends and family.” _

_ “Is that why your boy is attempting to drown himself in liquor?” _

Harry snorts, ignoring Draco pulling out  _ another  _ bottle.  _ “No, um, he just has a high tolerance, apparently. And no, I did not bring you booze. Gimme a sec.” _

He grabs his wand with his freehand, trying to remember the summoning spell that Draco taught him. The one that he always uses for homework and projects. It takes a second and a sip of one of Draco’s bottles, but then he’s holding a box in his hand, nearly dropping his wand in the process.

_ “It’s nothing big, just something for when you miss us. I know one day a week isn’t enough, but hopefully this will keep you company.” _

‘Nothing big’ translates to his muggle clothes, seeing how his Slytherin friends decided to get him a new wardrobe for Christmas, he has no need for Dudley’s oversized clothes anymore. He’d gotten Dobby to help him knit a blanket out of them, the elf had stretched the material and told him it was a great idea, but watching Geia sniff it makes him nervous.

_ “It smells like you...it is soft…” _

_ “Ah, yes, I mean…” _

Draco looks towards them, stumbling a bit. “Did you get her a blanket? I hope she likes it, I got her something too.”

Godric, how in the hell are his words not slurring at this point? The only evidence of his drinking is a faint pink lingering on his cheeks, but that could honestly just be the cold.

_ “Your boy has also-” _

Before Geia can complete her sentence Draco’s wand is out and a big staff appears, it looks vaguely familiar, like he’s seen it in a dream or something. 

Geia freezes the second it appears in the room.

“Tell her my mum had it, something about grave-robbers and catching them red-handed. There’s a story behind it…” Draco pouts, all cute and adorable. Harry wants to kiss him again, but not in front of the snake he accidentally, kinda on purpose, blinded. It’s a bit of a mood-killer. “Oh, fuck it, I can’t remember.”

Geia takes the blanket in her mouth, drapes it across her giant pillow in one swift movement, and then gently does the same with the staff.

_ “I cannot believe it still smells of him after all these years….”  _ She swivels her head towards them,  _ “This boy….the two of you...how peculiar the turn of events are…” _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ “I find it interesting that a Potter would save me one again, and that someone like your boy can be who he is….return my precious Asklepios’s staff to me...heal me and protect you the way he does…I am honored to be apart of your story.” _

_ “No,”  _ Harry bows even though she can’t see it,  _ “We are honored to be a part of yours.” _

He knows Draco can’t understand a word they’re saying, but he bows too, and then Geia’s snorting, telling them to get some rest, which sounds  _ great.  _ Falling into a bed, or even a chair at this point, would be the cherry on top of his night. But doing that would mean leaving Draco, who’s still drinking and offering  _ him  _ drinks, so instead of parting ways Harry sneaks them out of the bathroom, down a few stories, and right to the Gang’s Room, still dressed up for Christmas.

“Don’t spill on your robes, Pans’ll kill you.”

They’re throwing pillows down by the fireplace, fully intending on laying down before the night is over, and honestly that is a  _ very  _ good point. 

“Don’t spill on  _ your  _ robes.” 

Bottles linger around the room, it honestly looks like Draco took the whole bar with him, and Harry’s not complaining. He’s perfectly buzzed, happy and warm, pausing every few seconds to look at Draco.

“My robes?” Draco’s brows furrow for a second, and then he shrugs and begins unbuttoning his shirt.

“Draco?!” Harry yells, averting his eyes. 

“What? You can’t sleep in  _ formal  _ robes! They’ll wrinkle, and Pansy will murder me if I wrinkle her work. She’s very protective.”

He does make a good point. So good, in fact, that Harry unbuttons his own shirt until he’s down to his socks and undergarments. Draco doesn’t look, sliding under the covers right next to the fireplace and turning away until Harry’s sliding in next to him.

“Who do you think won the bet?”

Draco takes a second to consider this, rolling over to face him, “Mmmm….probably Luna. She knows everything. It’s a Lovegood thing.”

“Aren’t you related to her?” Harry mumbles, laying his head down so their hairs mingle in the space between. 

Draco shrugs, hands finding his under the covers, playing with their fingers while he talks, “I’m related to a lot of people, my family’s been around forever you know.”

“Will you tell me about them?”

Draco nods, but his eyes are drooping. To be fair, Harry can barely focus on the movement of their fingers. The fire cracks behind them, and it’s warm and safe under these blankets. Plus, he has Draco right next to him...breathing in and out in a rhythm that’s easy to follow right into the bliss of sleep. 

{Pinterest Links:

[ _Draco_ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/draco-yule/)

[ _ Harry _ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/harry-yule/)

[ _ Blaise _ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/blaise-yule/)

[ _ Ron _ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/ron-yule/)

[ _ Pansy _ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/pansy-yule/)

[ _ Hermione _ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/hermione-yule/)

[ _ Fleur _ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/fleur-yule/)

[ _ Millie _ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/millie-yule/)

[ _Luna_ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/luna-yule/)

[ _Astoria_ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/astoria-yule/)

[ _Theo_ ](https://www.pinterest.com/secretwonderlandhp/theo-yule/)

There are also character profiles on my pinterest if you're interested :)}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends! sorry in advance, i feel like all my chapters are late now lmao, i'm having a lot of life changes rn and just in case the links i put at the end of the chapter don't work, my pinterest is Secret Wonderland, yes i have an anime profile.
> 
> also, completely off topic but i'm trying to move out of an unsafe home environment, so if any of you all know a way to make easy money let me fucking know. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you all are safe and having fun times! love you and let me know if you appreciated the chapter <3!


	18. Break part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sickening.” Blaise comments, but he’s smiling so it can’t be too bad. 

It’s warm when Harry starts to gain consciousness. Wrapped all around him, like a blanket or a hug from his best friends. Did someone get him a blanket? Maybe Ron saw him shivering and covered him up, or maybe he fell asleep in a hoodie? 

A fire cackles from somewhere to his left, which is weird because he’s been at Hogwarts for four years now, and not  _ once  _ has he noticed a fireplace in the dorm. Is Neville having a breakdown again? He doesn’t hear crying...maybe Dean is finally burning Seamus’s awful lion blanket that roars whenever he walks by.

Something shifts to the left of him, something pulls him closer. Harry opens his eyes wide, heart already beating fast, trying to remember where he put his fucking wand and _ oh. _

Oh yeah...he fell asleep with Draco last night.

Draco, with firelight dancing over his hair, eyelashes shifting on perfect pale cheeks. His lips purse out, and then he yawns. Harry briefly thinks of LuLu before a little white ball of fuzz pounces in, right in his line of sight.

“LuLu!” When the fuck did Hermione get here? “Stay away from there! They’re sleeping!”

“We  _ hope  _ they just slept.” Blaise is here?

Who else is-  _ “You  _ didn’t ‘just sleep’ last night.”

There’s Pansy...which means that-

“I think I might be the only person who ‘just slept’ last night.”

Nope. Ron’s here too. Harry watches LuLu nuzzle Draco’s face, then gets a face full of fur as she descends upon him. 

“Oh! Harry, did we wake you?”

Harry suppresses a sigh, but does award LuLu with a few scratches and gently detangles himself from his boyfriend-  _ holy fuck his boyfriend.  _

Just like he thought, they’re all here. The Slytherins are the only ones who look relatively clean. Granted, he’s pretty sure Pansy is passing a pale pink night-gown as a dress, complete with an oversized sweater and a large cup that smells like coffee. Blaise’s pants also aren’t as tight as normal, but he’s just tucked a t-shirt in. That’s still dressed down for him. Hermione’s a little grey under the eyes, but she’s smiling and has her hair in a bun. He really loves her hair like that, even if she is wearing a shirt that he’s pretty sure belongs to Krum….Ron surprisingly isn’t paying it much attention, sitting in one of the chairs in some pajama bottoms and one of Fred’s old shirts.

At least they’re not in their formal clothes. 

Harry clears his throat, “Um, no.”

“You’re not naked under there, are you?” 

He does  _ not  _ like the suspicious eyebrow raise Blaise is giving him, or the snickers Pansy isn’t even bothering to hide.

“Also no,” Harry touches his t-shirt just to make sure, and then realizes a bigger issue. He and Draco are in their underwear… As if to prove his internal point, Ron gives him a highly amused look, holding up the pants like a trophy.

“Are you  _ sure  _ you’re not naked under there?”

_ “Yes.”  _ A voice grunts from behind him, “Merlin’s sake, all we did was sleep people. We’re fourteen, not all of us want to start early.”

Harry feels more than sees Draco sit up. His blanket moves a bit, and then Draco’s chin is resting on his shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist, LuLu moves to sit on Harry’s lap. It’s all very wonderful and comfortable as  _ hell,  _ but he  _ really  _ wants a shower. 

“Sickening.” Blaise comments, but he’s smiling so it can’t be too bad. 

Pansy ignores them completely, reaching across the table she’s perched on for her bag. It captures all of their attention, even Ron pauses from where he was about to throw Harry his pants to watch. 

A small black camera comes out of the tiny purse, he has  _ no  _ idea how the hell she got it in there, but before he can ponder that the camera is turned on him. Or really, him and Draco.

“Smile!”

“Smile?”

“Pansy if I have bed hair in this I will-”

A blinding flash later and Pansy is holding a small white square in her hand. Draco tries to hold his hand out for it, but it’s already vanished to Godric knows where. Instead of listening to them bicker when he’s just woken up, Harry relaxes against Draco, enjoying LuLu’s soft purring. 

“So, we see where the lovebirds went last night...what happened to you?”

“Lovebirds?” Draco muses, Harry can feel him smiling. 

Hermione blushes darkly, suddenly very preoccupied with her nails. 

“You didn’t!” Pansy gasps, Blaise is  _ way  _ too entertained for anything good to be happening, Draco’s barley containing his laughter.

Ron’s just as confused as he is, “What’d you do?”

“I didn’t go  _ all  _ the way,” Hermione assures the group.

Harry’s still  _ very  _ confused, and then Blaise says:

“What? You mean to tell me you had Krum there and ready and  _ didn’t  _ take advantage of it?”

“We  _ did..”  _ Hermione hides her face in her hands, “We were too intoxicated to go all the way so...well, you know how it is.”

Pansy crosses the room in a blink of an eye to hug her, “I’m so  _ proud of you!  _ We slug anyone who ever calls you a bookworm again!”

“Weren’t we doing that anyways?” Blaise asks, eyeing Ron’s face.

It’s doing some interesting things, a faint shade of purple trying to fade into red. The boy takes some deep breaths, hair almost  _ glowing  _ next to his cheeks. After a moment Blaise casually gives him some water, slipping in front of the boy. Harry watches his friend gulp the water down, take in some air, and then relax slightly. Harry sends him a smile, just for moral support, and then Blaise steps away and gives him a pat on the shoulder.

“What did  _ you  _ do?” Hermione asks, completely oblivious to Ron’s crisis.

Pansy steps back, making sure the room is watching her, “I got  _ extremely  _ drunk, nearly castrated Millie’s date, watched Theo make out with Fetch-Fletchly _ ,  _ helped Daphne and Astoria back to the room, and  _ might  _ have visited with one of the Durmstrang girls, but who’s to say…”

Her wicked smile is a dead giveaway of whatever happened last night, Harry really doesn't want to know. 

“You got a Durmstrang?” Blaise asks, much to Pansy’s confusion.

“Didn’t you go with Alice?”

“I did,” Blaise faces her head on like some sort of challenge has begun, “She was far too out of it to consent, so I made sure her and Fleur got to bed safely.”

“Awww, bear..” Pansy slinks up to him, throwing her arm around his shoulder just to be a dick, “Your mother is going to be so proud.”

Ron snorts at that, a mistake really because now the room is looking at him. 

“What did  _ you  _ do, Ronnikins?”

“Please, Fred and George barely get away with calling me that, and I’ll have you know that unlike you  _ hooligans,  _ I was babysitting all night. First Fleur, then Alice. Somehow I got mixed up with Astoria and the Pati twins, but for most of the night I hung out with Lav.”

“Lav?” Hermione asks.

“Yeah, Lavender Brown? She’s actually pretty funny, a  _ fierce  _ friend too. I was there for the Millie situation, and let me tell you if it weren’t for that douchebag getting confused out of nowhere,” He eyes Draco for that one, Harry tries not to smile, “I would’ve slugged him. After Lav had her turn, of course.”

All eyes are on Draco now, who shrugs. “Thank Merlin someone interfered, probably some handsome price, don’t you think?”

Pansy and Blaise laugh, even Hermione is smiling.

“As great as this is, believe me, I just  _ love  _ having all of you around me and my boyfriend while we’re in our underwear, but I’d much prefer a shower and some food. Ron, could you hand me my pants?”

Harry’s bright red, and he’s sure Draco’s just as pink despite his calm tone, but their friends only laugh a little before leaving the room. Pants are thrown on, formal shirts they don’t bother with. Just before they exit, Harry stops dead in his tracks. He won’t see Draco for the rest of the day, probably. He’ll have to focus on the second task again, have to deal with all the worries he completely ignored over break.

“Hey? You okay? Did you forget something-”

Harry cuts Draco off with a quick kiss, just because he fucking can. 

It’s his best idea all morning.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco feels  _ loads  _ better after a hot shower and some eggs, courtesy of Winky. 

Unfortunately, classes begin in one week, and he can’t put off his list any longer. 

“You’re going to the library?” Blaise asks. He’s lounging on his bed, watching a book with LuLu.

“Yes. I have a lot of work to do.”

Blaise raises an eyebrow, “So you’re going to go find Harry.”

Merlin, isn’t that a tempting idea. They could go back to cuddling, a full week of ignoring the entire outside world, curled up inside the gang’s room. He could probably transfigure a bed out of those desks….

Draco shakes his head, “No.  _ No.  _ Real work. I have a list.”

“Of course you do…”

LuLu yawns at him, almost like she wants him to join in on their little book fest, but he seriously can’t. No matter how much he wants to. 

Draco collects his bag, throws back a shot of espresso, also courtesy of Winky, and one of his headache potions. Blaise waves him out the door, curling deeper into bed, leaving Draco to debate his entire existence on the way to the library. 

But, once he’s there, he’s  _ there,  _ so he might as well  _ try  _ to get something done.

Something like the homework Pomfrey gave him that’s due at their session tomorrow.

He sets up a station in the far side of the library, grabs his first book for the afternoon, and gets ready for the next couple of days.

On the plus side, he is productive. Pomfrey’s homework takes him all of ten minutes, so he starts on the work assigned over break. Hagrid never gives them anything, one of his favorite qualities about the giant, Binns only cared enough to give them one parchment’s length of a paper, so that only takes an hour to write, fact check, edit, and write again neatly. Snape’s work is almost as easy, but he can’t just  _ write  _ about a potion and  _ not  _ brew it, so he decides that will go on his list of Things to do Tomorrow. McGonagall just wants a two-parchment paper about their project ideas, and  _ that  _ actually helps him get a better idea of  _ how  _ he’ll work it all out. Also another thing to do tomorrow. He’s about to start on his DADA chart when Madam Pince announces closing time.

Which is  _ fine,  _ because he needs sleep before facing the devil that is Poppy Pomfrey the next morning.

Bright and early, an hour before the hospital wing opens, Draco’s yawning into a cauldron of Pepper Up.

“Take a sample of that, you’ll need it.”

Merlin, he hates it when Poppy says that. He suddenly has a sick feeling in his stomach, but he knows a thing or two about trusting professors when they tell him to take something, so he snags a spoonful. An hour later and he honestly needs another one.

“Why didn’t you tell me we were playing with Frankie today? I wouldn’t have worn white.”

Poppy doesn’t even flinch when blood splats on her cheek, “I’ll teach you a spell for it when you’re done fixing his lung.”

“I thought I was learning more potions today?”

“If you do this correctly you will.”

Thirty minutes later, after Draco’s scongified his robes and learned what Poppy called ‘a medi-mage trade secret spell’ to repel blood, he  _ does  _ get a book on potions and salves. 

“I’m a little over-run with patients after that ball,” Poppy begins. Clearly she did  _ not  _ enjoy the night like the rest of them. “Check on the students from the other schools, I’ll deal with Hogwarts ones. I’ve kept them separated, so everyone on the left is yours for the morning.” 

“Mine?!” Draco squeaks. Sure, he’s a pretty quick learner and he’s never had an issue with whatever Poppy throws at him, but he’s only been working with her for two months! He’s not ready for patients! He can’t-

“Relax. Remember what I told you, a calm medic is a good medic. There’s nothing major, just some students who got a little over zealous. You know the checklist, correct?”

Draco nods, “Temperature, disinfectant for any wounds, potions listed on their clipboards, ask for any pain or changes that have occurred overnight.”

“Good. That’s all you’re doing. Just the basics, okay? You’re competent, Draco, that’s why I’m trusting you.” Poppy pats his arm twice before handing him his own clipboard and a quill. “Now get off your behind and maybe you can brew the first potion before you leave.”

There’s no arguing with her, so Draco charms his quill to write for him and nods her way before opening his first curtain.

In total there’s only ten of them.

Surprisingly the first person is the Beauxbatons boy that was handing out drinks at Fleur’s party, just a few scrapes and a bruised eyeball. Apparently Poppy kept him overnight for his dizziness, which is all but gone for now. Just like the witch promised, most of them are small things. A few Durmstrangs regrowing bones, Beauxbatons in need of a few sleeping droughts to sleep off what Draco suspects is too much alcohol. A broken nose here, a dizzy person there, one of the girls from Durmstrang actually burned her hand, so now he knows what _that_ smells like. He’ll be honest, the image of burned flesh peeling off her arm is something that almost gets him, but she’s the last one and after this he can bully Poppy into letting him brew.

Or he would, if Cedric and Cho didn’t walk in right as he reaches the front of the wing where Poppy’s desk is. 

“Handle that will you?” She yells before vanishing behind the last sheet on the right.

Draco glares, just because he fucking can, and then turns to wave them over.

“I didn’t know you were helping Pomfrey.” Cedric greets, Cho at least has the decency to bid him ‘good morning’.

“Yeah, well I have to learn medical magic somehow. What do you need?”

“It’s actually not for us,” Cho begins with a sweet smile. “We were hoping to talk to Pomfrey about Willie. He hadn’t been feeling well lately.” 

Willie? Isn’t that the Huffle that he caught with Severus? The one that follows him around sometimes? 

Draco puts his clipboard full of notes on Poppy’s desk, grabbing a new one and unbinding his quill. “What’s wrong with him?”

The couple shares a look, and then Cedric sighs. “It’s like he’s drunk a potion….”

“A potion? Has he been poisoned?”

“No..” Cho shakes her head, “It’s weird, even I can’t figure it out. His hair switches colors, so does his skin and eyes. He has no control over it.”

“Last night he woke up coughing, threw up, and then went to bed, I think. He hasn’t woken up, but he won’t stop shivering, and we can’t get him to wake.”

Draco writes it down, trying to ignore the growing bad feeling in his gut, “Anything else?”

They share another look, Cho nudges Cedric further. The boy bites his lower lip, and then comes a little closer into Draco’s space. 

“He’s mummering...I can’t make out much but it’s not English or Dutch, Cho said it wasn’t Korean or Chinese or even Greek….it’s like he’s stuck in some sort of nightmare…”

Okay, so this is definitely not the ‘basics’. Probably above his level of expertise, so he sets the clipboard down and pats Cedric's shoulder. “I’ll go get Poppy.”

Poppy is  _ not  _ pleased about being interpreted, and neither is Longbottom who is just as surprised to see Draco in the hospital wing  _ helping  _ as Cedric and Cho were. Draco apologizes, helps Poppy cast a quick pain spell and grabs a potion for nausea, and then, once Longbottom is taken care of, he all but drags her out and to the couple so  _ they  _ can explain what’s going on. 

Before half of their explanation is over, Poppy is already looking through Draco’s notes. 

“Have you Head of House levitate him here, Draco go prepare a bed and notify me the second he enters the wing. I’m going to go check on the patients in the emergency wing again.”

She turns away without another word, which means  _ Draco  _ has to deal with a Cedric near tears.

“I know you don’t like him, but he’s a good person.” The Hufflepuff explains, “Always helps out whoever needs it, hell, he talked with me about my mum and I…”

Emotional comfort is  _ not  _ his forte, but thankful Cho can handle it. She wraps an arm around his waist, glancing at Draco for  _ something,  _ but he has no idea what.

“Hey,” He begins after Cho glares, “He’ll be fine. Poppy has never failed a patient, and if she needs extra help I’m right here. I’m quite competent, apparently.”

Cedric snorts, “Is that so?”

“Yes. I healed a lung this morning.”

That gets him smiling enough to leave the room, and because Draco doesn’t have much else to do he makes sure all the students are stocked up on their respective medicines and gets Willie’s bed ready. He’s just begun to organize Poppy’s notes for the morning when Sprout comes in, William shivering under a blanket above her. 

Draco leads them, along with Cedric and Cho, to his bed, then runs for Poppy. Somehow, he has to replace her in sewing up a second-year’s cheek.

“Sorry,’” the kid says, “I know this can’t be fun-”

“Don’t talk. It’ll mess up the stitches.” 

The boy immediately shuts his mouth as Draco works. He focuses on making sure his wand movements are correct, and then instructs him not to speak once again.

“You have to wait one minute to make sure they stay in place, until then we’re going to work up a system, okay? One finger is yes, two fingers in no. Got it?”

One finger is held up, so Draco guesses the kid understands. He looks weirdly familiar, but Draco can worry about that  _ after  _ he’s taken care of Poppy’s checklist.

“Any pain?”

One finger again.

“Scale of one-to-ten, use your fingers.” 

The kid holds up six fingers, Draco nods. “Gimme one second, okay? After this you should be able to talk again.”

He exits the sheet-room, grabs a salve from the cupboard next to Frankie’s cupboard, and returns. Draco has to apply this one by hand, and because the kid is so  _ young  _ he warns him, and then makes sure to be extra gentle. Just to be sure, he casts one final  _ lenio.  _

“Okay. You can talk for the rest of them, hows that pain now?”

The kid smiles, “A lot better, thanks.”

“Hungry at all?”

“Not yet. Madam Pomfrey said I can’t chew until my cheek is completely healed.”

“Well, it’s healed on the inside. Drink that.” He points to the potion on the kid’s bedside table, staying to make sure he drinks  _ all  _ of it.

He does, making a face the entire time. “Excuse me for being rude, but this is awful.”

“Medical protons always are.” Draco says, taking the bottle, he casts a quick  _ aguamenti _ and hands it back, “Drink this, swish it around your mouth before you swallow. That should help a little bit.”

The kid does as instructed, flashing a familiar smile again. “Thank you Mister….”

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, and please, I’m only a fourth-year. Malfoy will work just fine.”

The kid’s eyes go wide, jaw dropping.  _ “You’re Draco Malfoy?!” _

“Yes?”

“Holy shit.”

“Excuse me?”

The kid quickly puts the potion bottle down, waving his hands frantically, “Sorry, sorry, you’re just so nice! My brother told me you were mean, so I was kinda scared of you, I promise I didn’t mean to offend you especially after you just helped me, Godric I am  _ so  _ sorry-”

“Hey! Slow down. Stress is bad for your wounds!” Draco reprimands, “You didn’t offend me, it’s okay.”

The kid nods, eyes still wide with fear. 

Draco sighs, “Who’s your brother?”

“Colin Creevey.”

Oh. That kid with the camera, the one who got petrified second-year, explains a lot. Draco sighs again, offering a small smile.

“Look...-”

“Dennis.”

“Look, Dennis, your brother is right. I’m very mean and scary, okay? Now, the elves will bring food in an hour, can you hold out until then?”

Dennis nods.

“Good. I’ve got to go now, but remember: I’m a total jerk. Okay?”

Child Creevey, they’re both children honestly, smiles at him, “Got you. Thank you, Draco.”

“Malfoy!” Draco reminds him, stepping out of the sheet and rushing back to where he left Willie.

Poppy glances his way when he enters the closed sheets, “Took you long enough. I’ve banished the kids and got Pomona to get Severus, I need  _ you  _ to finish getting his temperature down while I run an internal diagnostics.”

“So we still don’t know what’s wrong?” Draco asks, already grabbing a cloth and his wand.

“We know he has a fever, an empty-stomach, and cannot be woken.”

“Nothing new, then.”

Poppy doesn’t even glare at him, flicking her wand in a few complicated movements and analyzing the chart that appears in mid-air. Right after he’s finally gotten William’s sweating to stop the curtains are thrown open. Ellios rushes in, Severus hot on their heels.

“Good, you’re here,” Poppy says to Snape, and then to Ellios, “Who are you?”

“Ellios. I am, Willie is my-”

Severus steps in between them, “Ellie needs to be here, I’ll explain later. What’s wrong with the boy?” 

Poppy rolls her eyes, nodding to Draco as she turns back to her chart. Snape pats his head in greeting, ignoring how Ellios is cupping William’s cheek.

“Draco? I knew you were helping the Madam, but I didn’t know you were working with patients.”

“Yeah,” Draco shrugs, spelling his cloth dry so he can place it above William’s eyebrows. “I’ll explain later. For now we know he’s in a Fever Dream and cannot wake up. If she’s called you here, there might be a potion involved, but we honestly know nothing.”

“Draco!” Poppy sighs, “We do  _ not  _ know  _ nothing!” _

“Fine! We don’t know anything  _ new.” _

Ellios shushes them right before Poppy can glare at him, and she’s about to turn her glare on  _ them  _ but then Willie is whispering.

“Wait...is that Swedish?”

Ellios whips their head around, “You speak?”

“Lucius had a business over there,” Draco explains with a wave of a wand to amplify the mummerings. 

It’s not much, but he can make out  _ ‘please, no’, ‘stop’,  _ and  _ ‘not them.’  _ Reassuring, no. But at least that’s new information. 

As if the moment couldn’t get any weirder, William’s skin melts into the color of Ellios's, darker than midnight. His hair fades into white, like a virus eating up the brown locks. It’s gone in the blink of an eye, but it gives Draco more than he needs to know.

“You’re-”

“He is my son.” Ellios whispers. 

Draco turns to Snape. “Did you know?”

“Yes.” His lying godfather sighs, “Yes I did. There is no reason for anyone to know, Poppy, I ask that you tell no one. It’s a dangerous situation, and no, Draco, you may not ask questions.”

Poppy purses her lips, but nods in the end and since she’s on board Draco has no one to back him up. He’s about to say something stupid to break the tension in the room, and then the magic chart Poppy cast lights up in red.

“Red means bad, right?”

“Something like that,” Poppy mumbles, poking at it with her wand. A few stabs later and she nods. “He’s experiencing a lot of activity in his brain, and while I’m not a mind-healer-”

“I am!” Ellios shoots away from their position at William’s side, taking a peek at Poppy’ chart.

“Distress reading in his pre-frontal cortex?” They poke a bit more, “It’s begun affecting his amygdala, fuck why did he not tell me sooner.”

Poppy gives them a look, “I must ask you to refrain from such language in front of my students.”

“Forgive me, but I’ll remind you that is my  _ son  _ on your bed.” Ellios seethes, which makes sense to him, but Draco has no fucking clue what they’re taking about.

“I hate to intrude, but I have no idea what’s happening.”

“Stress,” Ellios explains, “He is going through stress to the point that his brain is trying to shut down, do you see how this part is inflamed, and this one here is slightly bigger? It means he has been in such stress that his brain is trying to accommodate, but cannot, so it is reworking the structure and in turn, making his reception to stress worse. He is not experiencing a Fever Dream, he is experiencing a  _ Chronic Nightmare.” _

Oh. He’s been there before, but he went to Snape before it got too bad, plus he had Blaise and Pansy to look after him, and Lupin towards the worst parts. Plus, Severus had given him Calming Draughts until he could handle the stress himself. Draco tries to think of how  _ any  _ of this could help William while the doctors argue. Severus looks suddenly in need of a Calming Draught himself, which gives Draco an idea.

“Isn’t there a spell form of a Calming Draught?” He says over the adults, “If we use a powerful one of those we might be able to wake him up, get a real potion in him and that could get him in a state where we could access the rest of the damage.”

Poppy, Ellios,  _ and  _ Severus blink three times, and then Poppy smiles. “Thinking outside the box, I like it. You grab the potion, I’ll cast the spell.”

Snape waves his hand and a vial of Calming Draught appears right as Poppy casts  _ cessabit.  _ Draco gives her a look.

“Isn’t that usually used on animals?”

“You once used  _ tergo _ to clean up blood on a still healing wound, I don’t wanna hear it.”

Ellios looks at him dirty for that one, but Draco just shrugs, looking at William who  _ still  _ hasn’t gotten any better. 

“Draco, cast the spell, Ellios was it? Monitor the chart, show and tell me if it’s working.”

“Show you?”

“Yes,” Poppy moves closer to them, “My students are under stress so much I’m surprised they haven’t suffered from this. Harry Potter and Draco himself come to mind.”

Draco can  _ feel  _ all of them looking at him, but he’s a bit busy casting to care.

Two casts later and Ellios points to the chart, now zoomed in on William’s mind. 

“There! Do you see how the swelling is going down? Try it again!”

Two more later and the boy is sweating again, but Draco keeps casting until Severus grabs his hand.

“You may stop now, I believe you’ve done two more than necessary.”

Draco lowers his wand, ignoring how his hand is shaking a bit. “How is the swelling?”

“Down.” Poppy answers as Ellios descends upon their child. “He’ll wake in a few hours now. You,” She pats Draco on the arm, “Have done wonderfully. I’m very proud of you, now go wash up and we can talk about that potion I promised you.”

“Potion?” Severus asks.

Draco takes that as his cue to rush out before Snape can start talking his usual potions garb. Something about them being an art, something about the craft being respectable and interesting. Draco never listens to the whole thing, but he does feel better after drinking some water and wiping the sweat off his face. Granted, he doesn’t make it far before Cedric is stepping up to him, but that’s what he gets for not going to a bathroom.

“How is he?”

Draco smiles, “He’ll be just fine. Snape and Pomfrey are looking over him right now, but the sweating and stress has gone down significantly. He’ll wake in a few hours and we’ll go from there, but until then Pomfrey has requested that he have no visitors.”

She didn’t, but he’s pretty sure it was implied when she kicked them out the first time.

Cho pats her boyfriend’s shoulder for a moment, and then her eyes light up, “I forgot to ask!” She leans a little closer, “How are you and Harry?”

Draco sputters out a ‘what’, his blush more than enough for an answer. Cedric is suddenly all smiles, and then his eyes light up too.

“Oh! Helga, I almost forgot as well. I need to talk to him, do you know where he is?”

Draco raises an eyebrow, refusing to acknowledge the heat on his cheeks. “What time is it?”

“Um,” Cho checks her watch, “Nine forty-seven.”

“Probably still in bed, then. It’s still break, I can’t see him being up before noon.”

They do that annoying look again, he really hopes he doesn’t do that with anyone, and then Cedric nods. 

“When you see him, will you tell him that the, um, egg, needs to boil-”

“Oh for Rowena’s sake, Ceddie.” Cho sighs. “Tell Harry to take the egg from the first task and put it under the water of the Perfect’s tub.”

Draco fixes them with a bored stare. “The Perfect’s tub?”

Now it’s Cedric's turn to blush. “Yes.”

“And how did you acquire this information?”

“Well, um, you see…”

Cho rolls her eyes, “Ceddie, we’re practically married. And for  _ your  _ information, we went there last night because it’s  _ romantic  _ and since no one comes in there it’s the perfect place to-”

“Okay! Okay! Under the water, got it, Merlin above…”

Cho smiles like the two boys aren’t burning red, and then takes Cedric’s hand. “Good. If that’s the case we should get going. We have a date with the library, oh!”

She reaches into Cedric’s bag and pulls out a square cloth, “We figured you probably hadn’t eaten, and we didn’t know what you liked so we got the basics.”

Draco unfolds the cloth to see bread, a few strawberries and grapes, and an apple. 

“Thank you.”

They both grin at him, “It’s the least we could do. Now go, be mean and scar the patients.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You’re sure he said the Perfect’s bathroom?” Harry squeaks later that night.

They stand in an alcove, hidden from the public eye even though the rest of the castle is at dinner. 

“Yes. Do you have it with you?”

“No? It’s in my room.”

Draco tsks, “Go grab it and meet me by the fifth floor.”

“Why?”

Now is  _ so  _ not the time for questions. “Just trust me.”

Harry looks at him for a moment, and then kisses him. It’s short and sweet, but Draco’s heart flutters all the same.

“Okay.”

As Harry starts towards the Gryffindor tower, Draco makes his way to the Dinning Hall, straight to Pansy. He ignores his group of friends, plopping down and rushing out “I need you to do me a favor.”

Pansy snorts. “Hello to you too.”

“Do you still have the key to the Perfects Bathroom?”

Her eyes go wide, Theo is suddenly  _ very  _ interested in this conversation. “Well, well, well. Pans, you  _ have  _ been naughty.”

“Why?” Pansy glares.

“I need it. Now, preferably. Do you still have it?”

“No.” Pansy says slowly, “I gave it back to Claire after I was done making formal robes.”

Fuck. That’s not good at all. They need to get into the bathroom, the sooner the better, and Harry might make it to the fifth floor before he does at this point.

“What I  _ do  _ have is this.” Pansy grabs her purse from her lap, rummaging through it until a chain of keys comes out. She flicks through them, ignoring Blaise and Millie questioning what the  _ fuck  _ that is and Theo laughing. 

“Here. This is the right one.” 

Pansy detangles a key from her giant key chain and hands it over. 

“Excuse me, I’d still like to know what the  _ hell  _ those are?” Blaise glares. “Particularly the one with my name on it.”

“Oh, it’s the key to your trunk. Don’t give me that look! I make copies of  _ all  _ the keys I encounter. You can never be too careful.”

Draco knows he should be just as offended as his friends, but he’s so happy he just kisses her cheek and makes his way out the door before his friends can start complaining.

Harry doesn’t make it there before him, but he does arrive just seconds after Draco does, egg and swim trunks in hand.

“You brought trunks?”

“Yes? What if we have to get in?”

Draco laughs, kissing him for being so fucking cute. They turn a few corners until they pass Boris the Bewildered. Then Draco reads ‘pine fresh’ off Pansy’s ridiculous key. The door slides open, they step inside, Harry laughs.

“Isn’t this supposed to be a secret?”

“I’m a Slytherin. We know most secrets.” 

Harry just laughs again, and then he looks around the room wildly. “Holy shit! This place is  _ huge!”  _

Is it? Draco’s never noticed. It’s a little smaller than his bathroom at the manor, but the marble is nice. And the big mirrors, Draco  _ loves  _ a big mirror.

“I’m glad I brought my trunks, this is the size of a small pool!”

Harry looks around the room, going into the left corridor and finding the showers (‘Holy fuck!’), exploring the size of the bath, admiring the sinks. Draco has his mind made the second Harry refrains from touching the ‘fancy faucets’. 

“Go, get undressed and grab a towel.”

Harry turns to him, “Hm?”

“Just, trust me. Go, the changing rooms are to the right.”

And because Harry’s trust in him is apparently unending, Harry kisses him on the cheek and makes his way to the right. As soon as the door is shut behind him Draco gets to work. His boyfriend is going to have a bath, a bubbly, citrus-scented,  _ perfect  _ bath. And Draco will be giving him a back rub, a million kisses, and  _ then  _ they’ll deal with the stupid egg. 

The bubbles are just peaking over the edge of the bath by the time Harry returns, towel wrapped around his waist. He blushes at Draco, who changed into a towel while the water was running, and then adverts his eyes.

“We’re taking a bath?”

“Well,” Draco pads over to him, taking his hand because he seriously doubts the boy will go in willingly. “The egg needs water, and we’re already here, so why not?”

Getting Harry into the bath is surprisingly easy. They both turn away as the other gets in, but as soon as nothing is visible Draco holds his boyfriend’s hand.

“Have you ever had a bath before?”

Harry thinks on it for a second as they relax into the tub’s ledges. “Maybe when I was a baby? Aunt Petunia would only let me shower once every three days.”

Draco’s magic flairs up. “Once every three days?!”

“Yep. I had five minutes to wash up and get out, and if I used hot water I had to do extra chores.”

Merlin, at this rate his hair is going to be flying. He can already feel it trying to raise up.

“If I kill them-”

“No.” Harry laughs, “They’re awful, but if you kill them I won’t have anywhere to go during summer.”

“Yes you will! You can come to the manor, or to see Sirius!”

Harry sighs, nearly swooning at the thought. “I’d love to live with Sirius. He offered, you know. When he left that night, he told me that one day he’d steal me away and me, him, and Remus could live together.”

Draco takes his hands, planning on working his way up the arms until he can trick Harry into getting a back rub. “Why hasn’t he?”

“I dunno.”

Fuck, talking about this has had the opposite effect of what he wants. Draco quickly remedies the situation, distracting Harry with a story as he works up his arms. By the time he’s done with it he’s turning Harry around and working on his shoulders.

“This is…” Some of the tension leaves Harry’s back, “Nice. This is  _ very  _ nice.”

“Well, I’ve dealt with stress a lot today and I wanted to make sure my boyfriend isn’t in the same situation.”

“Same situation?”

Draco works down tense muscles, explaining his morning.

“Wait! Ellios is William’s-”

“Yep. Shocking, isn’t it?”

Harry turns back to look at him, “But he looks nothing like them!”

Draco’s about to say ‘I know’ but a flash of William with black skin and white hair comes to mind. Interesting...he’ll file that away to think on later. For now he’s going to kiss Harry’s back and finish with his massage.

“Feeling relaxed?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good.” Draco mummers, wading to Harry’s front so he can kiss him properly. The only thing left is to grab the egg and see what it does, his fingers are getting pruney. 

As it turns out, putting the egg in water doesn’t do much other than make the water glow. A faint singing fills the air, but Draco can’t make it out, so they share a look. He has only a moment to realize he  _ just  _ did the thing Cho and Cedric were being annoying about this morning, and then Harry’s diving under the water.

Which makes sense, so Draco does the same, hating that he can hear the stupid egg better.

_ “We cannot sing above the ground, An hour long you'll have to look, To recover what we took. Lest what you seek stays here to rot.” _

Fuck. There are very few things that can talk in water, and only one of them sounds that good doing it.

He and Harry come back up. Harry sets his glasses to the side, giving Draco a curious look. He doesn't know, but then again, why would he? Muggle-raised, probably knows  _ nothing  _ about underwater creatures. Not good. In fact, Draco would dare to say things just got rather bad.

“Can’t sing above ground? What’s it on about?”

Draco sighs deeply, adding research to his list of Things to do Tomorrow.

“Mermaids, hun, it means mermaids.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so late, but also hi how is everyone? hope you're doing well we're moving on to the second task next chapter :)


	19. The Second Task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He swears she’s muttering curses to Dumbledore the whole time, but one can never be too sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back :)

Mermaids….

What the flying fuck?

Harry’s still very confused by the whole thing, but everyone around him isn’t.

“Take an object? What do you think that means?” Pansy glares at their chalkboard in the Gang’s room, Harry stopped trying to make sense of it weeks ago.

At first it was just a picture of the creatures, a few fun-facts, their kill rate, how sharp and pointed their teeth can be. All the imformation he needs to feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, and then Draco and Hermione found a fucking book in the Zabini library. It didn’t take long for Narcissa, Sirius, Remus,  _ and  _ Belle to get involved. Apparently Blaise’s mother knows a thing or two about mermaids, but Harry’s still clueless.

“Probably something important to the champions,” Ron muses.

Draco nods, “Make a list, add it to the ‘trials’ part.”

“Wait!” Hermione calls, pausing her Potion’s essay, “That part is too big already, add it to the ‘need to know’. I highly doubt they would steal from students.”

Draco gives her a look, Harry burrows into his chair, getting ready for the inevitable clash.

“You think thievery is the worst of their crimes?! The last task was a  _ dragon,  _ Hermione.”

“I just don’t think Dumbledore would stoop to such levels.”

“Then we clearly know different Dumbledores. Remember, class, this is the same man who left my innocent cousin imprisoned for twelve years. Same guy.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, “Fine. We’ll make a list, now get over here and check my papers! I have places to be, you know.”

Ron pales, Pansy giggles.

“Running off to meet Krum?”

“Of course,” Hermione smiles, “The next task is two days away, and I’d like to give him support.”

“That’s not all you’ll be giving him-”

_ “Anyways!”  _ Draco calls over his Slytherins. “Harry, love, come write down your important things. We can charm them later.”

Harry blushes, but does as he’s told.

The past few weeks have been a blur. 

He remembers snogging Draco in the Perfect’s Bathroom, almost getting caught by a Hufflepuff, and running all the way back to the Gryffindor tower in a towel. School started back up, nothing too out of the ordinary. Hermione, when she’s not with Krum, and Draco, when he’s not with Harry, still fight after the top spot in their classes. Draco’s been spending more time with Pompfrey, and in the dungeons which is weird but apparently it’s for his Transfiguration project so Harry knows better than to ask. 

To be fair, Draco’s also been spending a lot more time with  _ him. _ Sneaking in kisses between classes, lying by the fire in the Gang’s room, fleeting looks and soft touches. Nothing flusters him more than the pet names. Harry can handle ‘hun’ and ‘dear’ because teachers call him that all the time. It’s the casual ‘love’, ‘darling’, and ‘amour’ (if Draco’s just come from visiting Fleur) that get him. 

Ron is right, he’s whipped. 

Draco could probably turn out to be a Death Eater and Harry couldn’t care less, which is probably not a good thing, but there’s a big chance he’ll be dying in two days so what the hell. 

“Anything come to mind?” A voice whispers in his ear. He lets himself relax against Draco’s chest, ignoring Pansy and Ron’s gags.

“Mmmm...I don’t have many important things.”

“Can you name at least five?”

Probably. Harry twirls the locket that hasn’t left his neck since he got it, then he realizes what he’s doing and sighs.

“So, this locket is one. The book about my family is another. Mrs. Weasley’s sweater. The picture of me, Ron, and Hermione that Collin took at last year’s Christmas party. The photo album Sirius left me…” 

The room goes a little quieter, they all know the importance of family. What he’s been through, why such things would mean everything to him. 

“Okay.” Draco says quietly, kissing his cheek and letting Pansy drag him away.

They work a bit more on schoolwork because the Professors apparently don’t give a shit about the Tournament. He’s already done most of it, but Snape gives them a new paper  _ every fucking class,  _ so he’ll have to finish that before the night’s over. The Slytherin’s and Hermione would have his head if he didn’t. 

Ron finishes first, surprisingly, waving goodbye to them and leaving in a rush, which is another weird thing. He’s been oddly busy lately, hanging out with more people. Sometimes, when Draco is with Pomfrey, Harry goes with him. They hang around Seamus, Dean, and Neville. Ginny and the Twins, and if Ginny is there Luna is usually right beside her. Lately, just like clockwork, Lavender will join them right as Hermione gets there, and two seconds later Hermione will remember something in the library, or say she forgot something with Krum. 

It’s all very annoying, so when Hermione gets up and goes after Ron, Harry hopes he takes care of it. 

“Right….” Blaise looks between him and Draco, nodding with Pansy.

She begins packing up immediately. “Since it’s so late, nearly nine you know, and you still have things to charm, we’re just going to go.”

“Guys.” Draco groans, already covering his eyes.

“We’re just saying that alone time is very important for couples.”

_ “Guys.” _

“Really, Dragon, we understand that you need time to lovingly gaze into Harry’s eyes.”

“Or more.”

Harry flushes.

“Yeah, I mean have you  _ seen  _ Harry’s abs? How can you not want more?!”

_ “Guys!” _

Draco glares at his grinning friends, who ruffle Harry’s hair in response. “Take good care of him, okay Dragon? Harry-Hare is  _ very  _ important-”

_ “Shut. Up.” _

Pansy and Blaise leave the room laughing, Draco’s cheeks are still red by the time they’re gone. Harry finds this down right adorable.

“Cheer up, Draco. At least they aren’t as bad as the twins.”

They both shutter at the memory. Fred and George will  _ never  _ let him forget when they found him and Draco kissing on the way to Potions a week ago. They’re  _ still  _ making jokes about it.

“Whatever,” Draco frowns, “Are you done with your essay? If we go ahead and charm your items we won’t have to worry about them later.”

Harry likes that plan, and his essay is good enough, so he  _ accios  _ the four missing items from his room and lays them across one of the tables. 

Draco takes out his wand, mummering some spell Harry’s never heard of in his  _ entire  _ life.

“What?”

Harry blinks twice, “Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny.”

“Sorry, I’ve just never heard that one.”

Draco gapes at him for a moment, and then pulls Harry over. They’re unnecessarily close for spell casting, but Harry really thinks he might cast better pressed up against his boyfriend, even if he can’t focus on the wand movements. 

“Okay, so wave your wand like this. Fluid for this cast, it’s very important. Mum used to cast this before we went out when it was raining, or when we had to walk across the lake to my grandmother’s house.”

“Hold on a moment.” Harry places his family photo album down, “You’re grandmother?!”

“Yes?”

“How come I’ve never heard of her?!”

Draco shrugs, “She lives in Paris, I haven’t seen her since I started school.”

He’d love a chance to pry some more, but Draco’s already casting his water-proof spell on the next item, and Harry would really rather snog him than listen to a story about an old French woman. 

Their snog doesn’t last long thanks to Sirius’s last minute fire-call, which scares them right off the table but at least his god-father couldn’t see what they were doing on it.

“Are you boys alright?!” Remus calls, “That was a lot of banging!”

Draco runs a hand through his hair, nodding to Harry and straightening his robes. “Yes! Sirius caught us off guard is all, Harry dropped some textbooks.”

“Just like his father,” Sirius snorts.

Harry smiles. He loves nights like these, where he and Draco can hold hands under the fire’s view, listen to Remus and Sirius well into the night. He wonders if this is what having a family is like, the warm feeling that spreads through his chest and threatens to swallow him whole. 

“You should get some sleep these next two days.” Sirius says after an hour or two, “We’ll firecall the day after, okay? Sissy will be here, she’s very excited to hear about the experience.”

“So she’s bored.” Draco drawls.

“Yes, horribly so. Now go, it’s past curfew. And Harry,” Remus and Sirius share a look, and then his godfather looks at him and touches his soul, “Be  _ safe.  _ I know you’re upset about having to participate, but please don’t pull a stunt like you did with the dragons. Remus and I...we love you, kid, so don’t go dying on us, okay?”

Harry softens. “Okay.” He says quietly. And no, he does  _ not  _ have the heart to tell them that he has  _ no fucking clue  _ how he’s going to survive an hour under water.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Granted, he didn’t need to tell them anything because Neville corners him the next morning. 

“Listen, I didn’t do this, okay? But well…” The boy looks around the room, like Ron might try and take his chocolates again, “I heard about the second task okay? This right here...it’s gillyweed. It should help you out with the underwater bits.”

Harry’s so happy he would kiss him...if Draco wouldn’t kill him for it. Instead he rushes off to breakfast, drawing his Slytherin’s attention so they know to meet after lunch. Millie, Blaise, Pansy,  _ and  _ Draco are waiting for the three of them later that afternoon, and before anyone can complain about missing lunch or ask what the hell they’re doing here, Harry smiles and withdraws the weird slimy substance.

Blaise rolls his eyes. “You’re kidding me, aren’t you? Who gave you that? I know it wasn’t Theo-it was Longbottom wasn’t it?!”

“Wait-what are you-?”

Blaise huffs, uncharacteristically annoyed, and points at the weird seaweed like shit.  _ “That  _ is what I’ve been looking for in Sprout’s storage for the past three hours.”

“You!” Hermione slaps a hand over her mouth. “You were going to steal from Professor Sprout’s private stores?!”

“Like you didn’t do the same thing when we made polyjuice!” Ron rebuffs, snagging the plant from Harry’s palm so he can poke at it.. 

“There’s something you should know about that.” Draco begins. “It’s not actually a solution, it’s just the best that Blaise could come up with. Your Bubble Head is too weak to withstand the pressure of the lake, and we don’t have time to brew a Water Breather, so this is all we can do. Fortunately, it nearly guarantees that you’ll come back alive...but it might take some time for the gills to go away.”

Harry freezes. “The gills?”

“Yes, see, the plant might turn you into a fish. Temporarily, of course, but a fish nonetheless.”

Great. Fucking perfect.

“I mean I’d pay to see Fish Harry Potter.” Millie grins.

Harry frowns very sternly at her.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s an odd morning in that he can’t find Ron  _ anywhere  _ because apparently the headmaster wanted to talk to him, which means he probably planned something for the task. Hermione has begun to completely ignore his ‘Not A Champion’ viewpoint under the grounds of ‘you’re competing, Harry, so by definition you  _ are  _ a champion’. He knows she was planning on making a banner for him, he’s just hoping Ron hasn’t gotten involved. 

Knowing his best friend,  _ several  _ plays on the word ‘tails’ would be plastered big enough for McGonagall to yell at all three of them.

Which is probably why Ron’s in the headmaster’s office.

Ron disappearing doesn’t stop him from getting ready for the day. Just like Draco asked he casts warming charms, still annoyed at whoever thought swimming in the still icy Black Lake mid-February was a good idea. If they don’t die of Mermaid Wounds, they’ll definitely die of hypothermia. Which would be bad because his friends would be upset, and having Ron and Hermione cross with you is  _ not  _ a good experience. Harry can’t  _ fathom  _ what it would be like if he pissed off his Slytherins…

Tracking it down to the meeting point for the Champions is also weird because it’s Moody who walks with him. Call him biased, but he doesn’t really like the man after the whole Ferret Incident.

“I’ll tell you Potter. You’ve been real brave, boy.” Harry irks at the word, but the Professor doesn't notice. “You’ve got a brave head on your shoulders, a brave, brave head.” 

Harry has no fucking clue what that means, but it’s the only words that have been spoken on this weird little walk so he nods like he gets it and hides a relieved sigh when Cedric rushes over to meet him.

“Excited for a swim?” The boy asks.

Krum is not as happy, brows furrowed in a way that matches his Russian accent for once.. “We have many cold winters back home at Durm, but not even we not are foolish enough to swim in such temperatures.”

“I agree.” Fleur huffs, glaring at the air that comes with her every breath, “They are lucky my sister knows warming charms or I would have their heads for endangering her.”

Cedric turns his gaze to her, “You have a sister? I thought your only relatives were Malfoy and Lovegood.”

“No, no! Draco and Little Luna are my cousins, but Gabrielle is my dearest sister. She gets sick very easily, which is why we do not visit often, you are aware of how the weather is here in England. Always rainy and cold….we much prefer it back in France.”

“Is it warmer there?” Harry asks, envisioning that stupid magazine that’s probably still sitting on Aunt Petunia’s coffee table. 

“We are closer to the Mediterranean, so yes. Our winters are fair and our summers beautifully warm…” Fleur frowns like she’s missing it, and honestly, Harry’s missing the warmth too. 

He idly wonders if Draco and Luna like visiting France, if they even visit still. Blaise probably does, and it seems like the type of thing Pansy would like. Maybe one day he, Ron, and Hermione could go with them. See the world a little….that sounds nice, actually.

Before Harry can ponder that the champions are called over and given the rules for today. To his surprise, Madam Pomfrey is there to inspect their warming charms, adding a few extra layers just in case. 

He swears she’s muttering curses to Dumbledore the whole time, but one can never be too sure. 

After they’ve been prepped for the task, and been looked over to make sure everyone  _ won’t  _ die of the cold before the competition can even start, they’re led to the changing rooms. This time, instead of giving him and Cedric house-themed geer, they’ve stuck with the themes from last time. Diving suits, all form fitting but they don’t chaff which is unexpected, but nice. Fleur talks about how excited she is to spend the weekend with her sister before she goes back to France, Cedric and Krum muse about their respective girlfriends, and Harry...well he sits there and wonders if Mermaids are actually as ugly as the pictures make them out to be.

Muggles find them beautiful, but maybe that’s because they don’t see them often. 

Eventually they’re led out onto the docks, the whole stadium that’s been built nearby cheers, and it’s time to start.

Dumbledore rises from his seat at the bottom of the stands, addressing the crowd.

“Welcome! Welcome! On this fine morning we bear witness to the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament. By now I’m sure our champions have realized we’ve taken something from them, but do not fret. What has been taken can be retrieved at the bottom of Black Lake. You have one hour to find what is missing, retrieve it, and return.”

The champions all share a look, but they’re all clueless. Harry checked his things when he was getting ready, and nothing was missing unless they took it during the hour the champions had to sit and wait. 

That giant lady, Madame Maxime maybe?, stands up to tower over Dumbledore. “From Fleur Delacour, we’ve taken her sister, Gabrielle Delacour.”

The crowd goes dead, but Harry keeps his eyes on Fleur. Her hair is doing that thing that Draco’s does sometimes, but he can see it clear as day. Blonde locks rising in the air strand by strand...that can’t be good.

Wait. 

Harry blinks. 

They’ve taken  _ people?! _

“From Viktor Krum we’ve taken his brother-in-arms, Jordan.”

A brother? Or, brother-in-arms, whatever  _ that  _ is, Harry can barely pay attention to it all because if they took a sister and a brother then-

“From Cedric Diggory-”

Cedric’s eyes widen. He whispers a broken ‘no’ before Dumbledore says:

“We’ve taken his girlfriend, Cho Chang.”

_ Fuck.  _ Fuck, he’s never seen Cedric so angry and if they took a sister, and a brother, and Cho then-

“From Harry Potter we’ve taken.”

Harry’s heart stops.

_ Who  _ have they taken from him?

“His best friend, Ronald Weasley.”

No. 

No, no,  _ no.  _

Harry’s vision blurs from the anger. 

They took Ron?

No way in hell! Ron is supposed to be in the stands, he was  _ just  _ with Dumbledore!

Ron’s always been with him. He should’ve known something was wrong, he should’ve known Ron would be there for him, he’s  _ always  _ been there for him. Through everything and now Harry’s put him in danger all over again. His  _ best friend.  _ The kid who gave him a home, a  _ family.  _ His entire new life, the one where his parents were loved and his godfather is sane and lovely, and werewolves and magic exist, and his  _ boyfriend  _ and everyone he’s ever cared about, everything he knows now began with a giant and that little red-head that shared snacks with him on the train. 

And he’s down in the sea, with Mermaids who can rip people to pieces in seconds. 

They’re all frozen in shock, wide angry eyes trained on the judges, trying to get over  _ who  _ has been taken, not  _ what.  _ All four champions don’t move through the rest of Dumbledore’s speech, but the second the gun is fired it’s like a trance has been lifted.

Harry shoves the gillyweed down his throat, not giving one damn shit about his life at the moment.

He’s the first in the water. 

Not a good thing because he cannot breathe. For a moment he worries he might drown, and it’s enough that Krum- does he have a fucking shark head?- stops to watch him flounder around and then he  _ can  _ breath. And  _ see,  _ like everything. The little poles holding up the docks, seaweed dancing with the ripples of the water, even the bubbles coming out of Krum’s worried shark mouth.

Holy shit this is cool.

If he weren’t so worried about Ron, he might take a second to appreciate everything, but Ron is waiting for him, so he nods to Krum and tries to remember how to swim.

He was never allowed in pools, and sure, he knows how it’s supposed to work but that’s a lot different from actually  _ doing  _ it. An arm comes first, right? 

Harry sticks out an arm and a leg, hoping he can somehow move and given that he’s never properly swam in his life he’s a little shocked to see himself suddenly  _ very  _ far away from Krum and the others. He looks back and sees Cedric’s shocked face, but he can worry about that later.

He has to get to Ron.

That thought alone doesn’t let him look back. Harry swims forward, propelling himself ridiculously fast through the water, dodging debris that comes flying out of him from  _ somewhere.  _ Some sharp pointy things try to get in his way, but he manages to get around them with some close calls. At some point one of the creatures from the chalkboard show up, and Harry can hear Hermione in the back of his head saying ‘Oh! Those are more shark-related than magic, much more dangerous’ but he can’t focus on it because it’s not  _ Ron. _

He knows he’s going to the bottom of the lake, but it feels more like an ocean. Maybe the Black Lake is charmed, he has no fucking clue, and to be frank he couldn’t care less.

The wonder of it all has faded by now, all he cares about is Ron and the anger that drives him forward.

Why would they do this? Don’t they realize this is too far? His friend could die, or already be dead, and that’s the only reason he blasts through the merpeople swimming at him. At some point pain starts to spread across his arm, but he hasn’t reached Ron so he can’t bother with it.

Pomfrey’s regrown arms before and she’ll probably do it again. 

Besides, he can finally see the arches of the Mere Kingdom that lies beneath. 

Once again he wonders briefly if it’s been here the whole time, he feels like it’s a little hard to miss an entire golden glowing city, even if it  _ is _ buried a few hundred miles from the surface.

Not that it actually matters, because he can finally see Ron. And Cho, a girl who he assumes is Gabrielle and the boy must be Jordan. 

Right as he’s about a mile away from them he spots a rising wall, not made of bricks or the gold from the rest of the city, but of merpeople.

Harry raises his wand, not wanting to hurt them in case they hurt Ron for it, and casts a quick body-bind. He puts in more magic than he needs to, but he’s  _ angry  _ and  _ worried.  _ He can’t take any risks right now, so he bolts past them while he can, right to Ron. 

He expects them to come after him, make this whole ordeal much harder, but they don’t bother him after they’ve broken their binds, so he guesses it’s fine.

Ron’s tied to a golden pole with flimsy ropes so it’s pretty easy to get them off but he checks for cuts, scrapes, the rise and fall of his chest first. Ron seems fine, so he starts to untie him, and then stops because Ron might be fine, but that doesn't mean the others are. 

Harry freezes as he looks down the line.

He has Ron, but there are still three people left. 

A sister, a brother, a lover...he can’t leave them. Not until they’re safe. Are they safe? Are they wounded?

Harry starts to move towards Cho, the closest to Ron, only to be stopped.

He’s bigger than Harry expected. Skin blue, eyes black with golden irises. Gold swirls on his bare, extremely muscly chest, seeping down into a shimmering tale. In his left hand in a trident, long black hair swirls around it, Harry really hopes this doesn’t get violent. 

“You may only take one.” 

Oh! It’s the voice from the egg! 

Harry shakes the thought away, wondering if he can speak while he’s already speaking. “I’m not taking another, I’m just making sure they aren’t hurt.”

The merman gives him a look, “You think we would hurt our company?”

Company? 

_ Company?!  _

“You’ve tied them to poles, they’ve been stolen in the early morning hours, and they’re all important to my friends, so  _ yes  _ I would like to make sure none of them are hurt!”

“They are just humans, not even your human. Why would you go to such lengths?”

Harry’s eyes go wide at his statement, for a long moment he just stares, letting his anger grow stronger and stronger.

“Just humans?” He says, “No. No, you’re wrong. Do you see this girl?” He points to Cho, “She’s a lover! The girl next to her is a sister, the boy next to her a brother! They’re all someone’s child, all someone in their own rights! They have goals and dreams and they’re  _ alive  _ so of course they’re important! We’re all too young to die right now, and if I leave them and the others don’t make it here they could do that! Their hopes and dreams, all the precious memories they have and all the people they love would be gone!” Harry’s practically fuming now, but he points to the merman with his wandless hand, “You are a son, merman or not. Someone loves you, you have goals and hopes just like every other creature on this stupid planet and if you can appriciate being alive then you should appreciate the lives of others! How  _ dare  _ you act as though they don’t matter!”

The merman looks at him with wide eyes, as a matter of fact,  _ all  _ the merpeople are looking at him with wide eyes, which means he probably went too far again. Fuck, he’s really got to stop doing that. 

Harry hangs his shoulders, a funny little motion in the water, “Sorry, I’m just worried about them. I promise I’m not going to take them, not unless I have to. I just…” He looks up again, meeting the golden eyes with determination, “I’m going to stay. Until each and every one of them have been retrieved. And then I’ll go. I won’t hurt you, I won’t get in the way, I just need to make sure they’re safe.”

Once again the merman looks at him strangely, but he nods once and leaves so Harry figures it’s fine. 

He really can’t take anyone, so he goes and makes sure they’re not hurt before returning to Ron, sitting down on the gate next to where his best friend is tied. To pass the time he thinks of the many ways Draco and Hermione will torture him for this later, although the image of Pansy’s fury is equally terrifying. Granted, Blaise could get up to some tricky things so there’s that…..if he’s being honest he’ll probably get bombarded by all six of them and-hey! It’s Krum-shark!

The Shark head barrels through the line of merpeople, going straight to the other boy. He pauses to look at Harry, cocking his head to the side. Harry can practically hear him asking if he’s okay, so Harry holds up a thumbs up. 

Seeing a shark-head Krum shrug at him with a limp body over his shoulder has  _ got  _ to be one of the funniest things he’s ever seen.

Cedric follows a few minutes later, blasting the merpeople away with a particularly vengeful spell that makes really cool blue sparks. He rushes straight up to Cho, cupping her cheek and looking her over. Once he’s made sure she’s safe, he turns to Harry, who waves.

“What the hell are you doing?” 

Oh, so he  _ is  _ still pissed. Though, the angry magic coming off of him could’ve told Harry that. 

“Um,” Harry shrugs, “Supervising?”

“Supervising?!” Cedric shouts, already working on Cho’s ropes. “What the bloody hell do you  _ mean  _ supervising?! You have Ron, get your ass back to the surface!”

“I can’t!” Harry calls back. “Not until Fleur gets Gabrielle. I can’t just  _ leave  _ her, besides, you know I don’t care about winning this.”

Cedric hooks Cho under his arm, sending his angry gaze Harry’s way. 

“Harry Potter, this is the  _ stupidest  _ thing you’ve ever done! And that includes riding a dragon!”

“I know, I know. Now go, get out of here and you might beat Krum back!”

Cedric gives him one last look, shouting at him to be careful and then he’s off, going so fast it actually blows water back onto Harry. Cool.

He waits a little longer, twiddling his thumbs and wondering about what he’ll eat when this is finally over. Ron will probably want a big lunch and if he demands all of Harry’s apple pie that is completely fine because Ron is safe and not hurt and that’s all that matters and-

“Your hour is up, child. You should return.”

Harry looks up, meeting golden eyes again. 

“Fleur hasn’t gotten her sister yet.”

The mermaid nods, almost amused. “Yes….I believe you said something about her having goals? It will be difficult to achieve them if she is underwater, hm?”

Harry blinks twice, “Are you-are you saying that I can?”

“Yes. Take her, and your friend. Think of it as a returned favor from your ancestors.”

“You know Geia?!” Harry gasps, wanting to hit himself because he’s starting to feel funny and he and Geia aren’t even related, they just have-

“You are friends with the Serpent King?”

Harry comes back to the task at hand, moving to untie Ron. “Um, yes? We’re friends, actually. She taught me how to speak Dragon.”

The mermaid goes quiet, and then laughs loudly.

“A friend to Uγεία is a friend to us, but child... How do you expect to make it to the surface weak, wounded, and burdened by two?”

Wounded? 

Harry looks down at his arm.

Oh, that’s why he felt pain.

Blood oozes out from somewhere on his arm, and suddenly the pain is  _ everywhere.  _ Crawling up his arm, down to his hand and shoulder. Fuck, that’s gonna be an issue.

He smiles at the merman, “I’ll manage.”

“You are just a child, surely-”

“I am just a child, but we’re all just children.” Harry cuts him off, “This girl is younger than me, I can’t just leave her and I’d rather die before abandoning Ron, so I’ll figure it out.” He says, getting Gabrielle out from her ties.

It hurts to lift her, but eventually he has both of them under his arms, he just hopes his legs are good enough to get him to the surface.

The merman looks like he wants to say more, but Harry can feel the effects of the gillyweed starting to fade. He’s not sure how much time he has, so he cuts the creature off again, hoping he’s not being too rude.

“Thank you, for letting me stay and letting me take her.” 

Instead of speaking, the merman just nods, and as he’s beginning to open his mouth another merperson rushes up, speaking urgently in a language he can’t understand so he nods and takes off. 

Everything is starting to hurt. His legs ache, he’s starting to lose feeling in his injured arm, and his lungs are beginning to burn which can’t be a good sign. 

Harry makes it maybe twenty yards before he sees the flashes. 

“Disarm!” Someone yells. “We cannot hurt them!”

Hurt who? What the fuck is-

“Where is she!” 

Mother of Godric, he knows that voice. 

Harry swims down a little further, towards the commotion and almost drops his bodies.

Fleur does  _ not _ look like Fleur right now.

Her hair flies around her in a way that’s unnatural even in the water, and it could be the darkness of the water, but he’s pretty sure her hair is supposed to be blonde not white. And her skin is grey, which is strange but even weirder is her eyes because Harry knows they’re blue but right now they look pretty fucking black to him, not to mention the way her teeth and nails seem to be filed down and oh fuck, she’s attacking the merpeople.

Not in a defense way, she looks as though she’s trying to kill.

Already three merfolk are oozing from wounds, yelling and shouting in pain, but she’s not stopping, flying spells left and right.

_ “My sister!”  _ Fleur shrieks in a very not-Fleur voice,  _ “Where is my sister!” _

OH! That’s what this is about. 

He might drown doing this, but he’s sure Fleur will carry him to the surface.

Harry swims a little closer, calling out her name right as a smaller merman approaches.

Which turns out to be a mistake. 

The Fleur-like creature turns to him slowly, he actually feels like time stops when she spots Gabrielle under his arm, and then she’s rushing towards him with a snarl. Claws aim for his throat, there’s a curse on the tip of her tongue and Harry doesn’t mean to do it. He doesn’t, but there are injured merpeople and she’s definitely about to kill him so Harry drops Gabrielle, grabs his wand and stuns her so quickly he can hardly believe he’s done it.

This is also bad because Fleur is down dropping to the bottom of the ocean floor and- _ fuck.  _

Harry lunges after her, barely remembering to yank Gabrielle with him and almost not making it in time to grab Fleur’s finger.

He won’t be able to make it up like this, the effects of the gillyweed are nearly gone and now he has three bodies and his wound is still bleeding and-and one of the merpeople approaches him cautiously. 

“I’m sorry!” Harry blurts out upon seeing his wound. “I’m so sorry-she didn’t mean to-they. They took her sister, is anyone dead?”

“No.” Harry turns his head around to see that one merman from before, now with visible stress lines on his blue forehead. “No one has died, child, but many are wounded. This is a fearsome creature Albus has let loose in our waters.”

Harry’s vision is starting to go dark, but he nods anyways. “Albus is dumb. I have to- they won’t make it to the top without me,” He tries to explain, but the blood rushing from the unfamiliar merperson in front of him is starting to bother him.

“Here, let me,” He takes out his wand, using what’s left of his energy to cast the only healing charm he knows, the one that Draco drilled into him when they were healing Geia.

“It might be messed up,“ He slurs, still trying to swim away, but for some reasons the merpeople keep following him. Or at least, he thinks they’re following him, but their shapes are starting to blur and his lungs can’t take much more of this. “Magic, you know? Draco would know, but I don’t. I’m so sorry, it was her little sister.”

The familiar mermaid voice shushes him, the weight disappears from his arms. “Forgive me, Anvi, Uγεία, and you as well.”

Harry would like to ask what the fuck that’s supposed to mean, and then a weird iron taste is filling up his mouth. It’s gross at first, and then it turns kinda sweet. Like those flowers he used to steal from Aunt Petunia’s garden when they refused to feed him. What were they called again? Something with a h….

Little by little the pressure on his head clears and his vision returns. 

Alarming, because the first thing he can make out is the merman, who is now bleeding when he definitely wasn’t before, rubbing his blood into Harry’s wound.

Harry’s about to protest, because blood-sharing doesn’t exactly seem like a  _ good  _ thing to do, but then his mouth slams itself shut because the wound on his arm is  _ glowing  _ and while the rest of his body is cold, now his arm feels like it’s burning up. 

Wait, he can feel his arms, and they’re definitely empty which means that his people are gone  _ oh fuck he lost three people. _

“Do not worry, child, as you said, all life is precious. We are returning your friends to the surface, but you were too weak. I feared for your life.”

“But-you-thank you,” Harry tries to say, but his words are still slurred. He’s really fucking tired dammit. “Why?” He asks, just because usually when people do weird things to him it doesn’t end well.

“Because that is my son you saved.” The creature answers, weirdly close now. Harry’s starting to feel a little warmer, is it bedtime yet? It should be. “He would’ve killed her if you had not interfered.”

Well, at least he did something right today.

“That’s good.” Harry manages, closing his eyes just for a bit. “I’d have hated it if anyone died. It’s a fucked up competition when they’re making kids die.”

The warmth tightens around him.

“Yes, yes it is.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Whoever came up with this idea is a fucking idiot.

For starters, it’s probably the most boring thing Draco’s ever had to do. They’re literally just going to sit and stare at water for an hour, which would’ve been awful in itself.

But when Dumbass Dumbledore announces to a group of mostly underage children that the headmasters trapped  _ mostly underage children  _ underwater, with  _ dangerous creatures  _ who are known to  _ hate wizards…  _ Well, it goes from awful to fucking horrifying. 

The first name announced is his fucking cousin, and Pansy has to physically hold him back from doing something stupid, and if that wasn’t bad enough, the last name announced, the person stolen from Harry, is one of his close friends, which means Blaise has to join in to keep him from going anywhere.

Thank Merlin he remembered to tie his hair up. Even from the stands he can see Fleur’s starting to rise, and he would be right there with her if he didn’t look at Harry and see something he’s never seen before.

His Scarhead looks torn between fury and sadness so deep it rivals Cedric’s. Magic visibly swirls around him, like Fleur’s hair, which can’t be a good sign and for a moment all of Draco’s rage is replaced with worry and then the gun fires and Harry’s dumb ass is jumping headfirst into the water without eating his fucking gillyweed.

Not good for Draco. Not good at all.

Pansy soothes him from his left, Blaise comforts him from the right and it’s still not enough.

He can feel his magic swirling and trying to aim itself at Dumbledore because he  _ knows  _ he just  _ knows  _ the asshole hand picked who to take.

First Sirius, his cousin who he loves, who makes his mother happy, who makes  _ Harry  _ happy.

Then Gabriella, who he hasn’t seen since she was three years old, she’s only a first-year, and she means everything to Fleur, so it’s not enough that he’s endangered a child of his family, but he’s  _ hurt  _ Fleur.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he took Ron. Stupid, arrogant, bone-headed Ron who’s always calm when they need him to be, always there for Harry, who forgave him despite every mean thing he’s ever said. Ron is his  _ friend,  _ a part of Harry’s  _ family.  _

Dumbledore’s crossed yet another line, and Draco is so focused on keeping his anger in check so he doesn’t lash out that he almost misses Cedric popping out of the water, Krum coming up only a few seconds later.

Cedric kisses Cho the second they reach the docks and not even Snape bothers to scold them. Instead Professor Sprout rushes over and hugs them both, getting them towels and blankets, handing out something from a warm flask.

Krum snarls at his headmaster who attempts to help him up, keeping a protective arm around the Jordan character, who also looks a little pissed.

Draco completely gets the anger part.

Or he does, and then an hour is up and Harry and Fleur are both still gone.

“Where are they?” Millie turns around to whisper, worry creasing her brow.

It’s a question Draco would very much like to know because it’s been an hour and fifteen minutes and there are no ripples in the water. Even the headmasters are starting to get concerned. 

It’s not surprising that Theo is afraid. “Shouldn’t they be back by now? Why is no one doing anything?”

“They have to wait.” Blaise says through gritted teeth. “Merfolk don’t like wizards, they need permission to enter the water or it could start a war and….”

Pansy recrosses her legs for the fiftieth time, speaking so quietly Draco almost doesn’t hear her, “Dumbledore said they would keep what wasn’t gotten…”

Draco wishes he didn’t hear her. 

At an hour and forty-five minutes comes around and Draco’s ready to jump in the water himself.

Then the most peculiar thing happens. 

Mermaids rise out of the water, lightly placing Fleur, Gabbi, and Ron onto the docks before Dumbledore. They disappear without a word, and Fleur turns to the headmasters with fury. At least she looks mostly normal, but her skin is tinted grey and he can see bits of her hair rising from here.

On the plus side she hasn’t gone full angry Veela, and if his skin looks like that when he loses control he hopes  _ he  _ never reaches that point.

_ “You!” _ She shrieks, advancing towards the headmaster’s table, wand raised and furious.  _ “You tried to kill her!” _

Every last one of the headmasters begin to panic, which is fair because Fleur has the beginnings of a curse on her tongue when the water ripples and a voice booms out over her.

“That is enough, child.”

_ Holy fucking shit. _

“No way….” Blaise breathes.

And then, in front of reporters and children and headmasters alike the King of the Black Sea rises out of the water carrying Harry  _ fucking  _ Potter in his arm.

Draco’s only seen him in pictures before but it’s nothing compared to the sight.

He’s  _ at least  _ ten feet long, tail included. Intricate golden spirals map their way down to a golden tail, making a crown at his collarbones. In his left arm is a trident, which is partly why everyone falls deadly silent and Fleur drops her wand, staring in horror at the limp boy in his right arm.

Draco can’t tear his eyes away. He can’t tell if Harry’s chest is moving, if he’s alive, if he’s hurt. Nothing makes sense, but Fleur bows to him and her shoulders are moving like she’s crying.

_ What the fuck happened down there? _

“You disappoint me, Albus.” The king says, gently moving closer, “You have sent children to their deaths in my waters.”

Dumbledore rises, bowing as well. “King Rallam, I am honored to-”

“Do not speak. I do not wish to hear your voice.”

Draco takes a second away from worrying over Harry to appreciate the king’s words, but then Harry’s stirring and looking around.

Rallam, the fucking King of the Black Sea, son of Mother Ocean, fucking  _ smiles  _ at him. He places Harry gently on the docks, and Harry’s dumbass just frowns. 

He says something Draco can’t hear, and the king laughs,  _ fucking laughs.  _

“You are a strange one, Harry Potter.”

Harry shrugs, but he’s smiling which Draco takes as a good sign, although he doesn’t know what to make of any of this.

“Until we meet again,” the king says, and then, as if this can’t get any weirder, he fucking  _ bows  _ to Harry. A King,  _ the  _ King. Bowing. To  _ Harry,  _ his idiot boyfriend.

And Harry, not knowing what to do, looks around, shrugs and then does a half-bow back. 

The whole crowd is too confused to talk, some probably experiencing shock like he is, but Harry seems to decide that they haven’t seen enough because right as the King begins to descend Harry rushes towards the edge of the docks and shouts.

“Hey! Wait! What’s your name?”

“Rallam.” King of the Black Sea replies, “But you, my child, may call me Ra.”

_ Holy fucking shit.  _

Draco blinks once, and then twice, pinches himself just to make sure this is real.

Harry’s still smiling at the retreating figure, who just allowed him a nickname, and Fleur is still in tears and the rest of them are all in a mix of confused shock.

What the fuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> So, life update because it's effecting my updates:  
> I managed to get promoted? and they're offering me the pay for the job i was considering going to an interview for, which is perfect because i can now move out of my not-so-great house and it'll be wonderful.  
> the downside is that i'm working ten hour shifts five days a week and i'm also a fulltime college student which is why the updates haven't been consistent recently. i'm trying to fix it, but i'm moving this month or next month so it might be a while before everything settles down.   
> anyways, i've already started the next chapter so until i can post it let me know what you think and i'll reply as much as i can!  
> adore you all <3!


	20. siren's shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah? I was drowning, so he just stuck his thumb in my mouth I guess.”

“So, are we not going to talk about it?”

Harry would throw a pillow at Krum’s face if Pomfrey wouldn’t hurt him for it. Unfortunately, he values his taste buds. 

All four of the champions were forced to the hospital wing after the match, shoved into the emergency wing and told to lie down. Since the hostages had been in cold waters for Godric knows how long, they were her first priority. 

Fleur hasn’t made eye contact since they entered the room, Cedric won’t stop pacing, and Krum is merely lounging on one of the empty beds. Harry just _really_ wants to go to the Gang’s room. 

He knows everyone is there and waiting for him and Ron. He’ll have to give an explanation because he’s sure they’re all confused about everything, and yeah, he’ll have to deal with some mild frustration and anger, but it’s still preferable to Fleur tearing up every five seconds.

“What?” Cedric pauses his twenty-fifth round around the room, looking at Krum who just shrugs.

“Well, I’m not sure what happened, but I believe we’ve just seen Fleur-”

“Shut up.” Fleur hisses. “You saw nothing.”

Harry would beg to fucking differ.

And apparently, so would Krum.

“Are you ashamed? Why should you be? Veelas are respected in many cultures, you know.”

Fleur turns to him with her eyes wide and fists clenched. “You think I’m embarrassed of my magical heritage?” She scoffs, “Never. I am proud to be who I am, let them call me a beast, I hope the pictures of me pointing my wand in the headmasters’ stupid faces make the front cover of every wizard magazine! I am _still_ infuriated over the idiocy they displayed! They endangered more than just children today they….” She casts a glance at Harry and then stops talking all together.

Great. Another thing that he has to deal with.

“Look,” Harry sighs, moving away from his spot by the windows, “If this is about the merpeople, Ra said it’s fine. He gets it, if anything I think he’s more pissed at Dumbledore for being so reckless. I healed one of the mermen you attacked, and if he had the time to take us back to shore then the rest are probably fine so, you know, no harm done.”

He has no clue why Cedric is frantically waving at him to stop talking, all he’s doing is trying to calm Fleur down, but Krum is starting to look highly amused also….

Fleur finally looks him in the eye and oh fuck, _did_ he do something wrong?

“No harm done?!” She seethes, answering his question, “I nearly killed them and I-I would’ve killed you if you hadn’t stunned me! I had no control! I was a danger to everyone, including Gabbi!”

Harry holds his hands up in surrender, “But you didn’t! No one got hurt! And everyone understands, they took your sister! I was ready to kill anyone who got in the way of me getting Ron, and if it makes you feel any better you looked like a badass the entire time!”

Fleur blinks twice at him, but her anger seems to be dying down, so he keeps going.

“Like, I mean complete warrior. It was kinda scary, but I have to be honest I have never respected you more than I do right now. And, you know what? If you had killed someone, it would’ve been completely understandable!”

Even Krum is giving him a funny look now, but it only lasts for a second and then Fleur is laughing, light and airy. She pops off her stool and crosses the room to pull him in for a hug.

“You are a strange boy, Harry Potter.”

“You know I’m getting told that more and more these days. I think it’s the scar, it’s gotta be the scar, right?”

“Actually,” Cedric pipes up, “I think it’s the inability to stay away from trouble.”

“Yeah, Hermione tells me that too.”

Krum laughs at that, they end up bickering until Pomfrey comes into the room. Harry swears that if she wanted to she could kill them all, but she just heals their wounds and tells them to get some sleep. Harry she pulls aside to thoroughly inspect.

“Um...is there something wrong, Madam?”

Pomfrey glares at him in a very calculated way that he doesn’t really care for.

“You have no wounds, Mister Potter.”

He doesn’t? That’s cool. But, to be fair, that’s probably because of Ra. Should he tell her that? Is it really important?

Harry catches a glimpse of orange hair and decides that no, no it’s not important so he rushes out some bullshit excuse and goes running to his best friend. Ron catches him in a bear hug, swinging him around just for the hell of it.

“Godric above I nearly pissed myself when Dumbledore drew his wand at me.” Ron tells him as they walk down the wall. “Really, mate, he went all stoic and said something about me being important to you, then BAM wand in my face. From the most powerful wizard alive, not exactly comforting.”

Harry laughs through his anger, “You should’ve seen it when they first told us, I was sure Fleur was about to kill them all, and to be honest I probably would’ve joined her.”

Ron pauses outside the door to the Gang’s Room and grabs him by the shoulders.

“Harry, listen.” He really hopes this isn’t going to be sappy, neither of them handle sappy well. “It means a lot that I was the one down there, you know? I mean, we all think of you as family. You mean the world to us, hell, you know you even have your own bed back at the Burrow and I just. What I’m trying to say is uh, well, me too, buddy.”

“You too?” Harry asks, just because Ron trying to be serious is second only to Krum-Shark and this conversation is _way_ too emotional for either of them. 

“Shove off, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do, mate.”

Harry holds up his pinky, Ron takes it, they bump thumbs and grin like they’re eleven and hiding from McGonagall during class again. 

“Great.”

“Yup.”

“Ready to go inside and face the wrath of your boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

Ron, being the great friend that he is, just laughs and swings open the door, using his unfair height advantage against Harry and really! He’s seen a lot of fowl play this morning, but this is definitely at the top of the list! When did Ron even so tall?! He’s like a fucking _giant-_

“You _fucking bastard!”_

Harry gulps, realizing that Ron’s height is the least of his problems. Especially when he has a room of angry friends looking at him. Well, room of angry friends and Luna. He’s half convinced that Luna doesn’t really feel anger, but Hermione and Draco most certainly do.

“Didn’t you promise Sirius not to do stupid shit like that?!” Draco yells, poking his chest unnecessarily hard.

Hermione glares at both of them, opening her mouth probably to insult their intelligence, but then the rest of the Weasley crew come up behind her. It takes all of one second for the twins to pull Ron and Harry into a bone-crushing hug, Ginny right in the middle.

“We thought you were dead under there!”

“Seriously, Ickle Ronniekins!”

“What the hell were you thinking?!” 

They all pull back just in time to see Hermione wiping her eyes, “You could’ve at least told us you were going to be a part of the trial, Ron. We were all worried sick.”

“And _you!”_ Blaise steps through the mops of red hair, Pansy hot on his heels. Harry has half the sense to cower behind Draco, and all the courage and stupidity to face them head-on. “What the hell were you doing with the King of The Black Sea?!”

“The who?”

Hermione and his pureblood friends look scandalized.

“Tell me he’s joking,” Millie groans, sitting down after making sure her friends are actually in one piece. “We spent a month going over merpeople, tell me he’s fucking joking.”

“Hey! In my defense, we never covered royalty!” 

Blaise and Hermione glare, but Fred and George nod. Draco sighs, “He’s got a point.”

“And for the record,” Ron sits beside his sister and brothers, Luna on the floor smiling in front of them, “I did not _agree_ to be a part of the tournament, Dumbledore _ambushed me_ and then _pulled his wand out_ okay! I had no consent or opinion on that.”

Dumbledore should really stop pissing people off. Really, he already has Narcissa, probably Belle, definitely Sirius and Remus pissed at him, but he’s about to have the whole Weasley clan after his head and Harry _knows_ Dumbledore is more powerful, but there’s a _lot_ of strength in numbers. 

Plus, they might be teenagers but every last one of them are starting to grow a personal vendetta against the man.

Ron tells them about his morning, how he woke up super early because he was planning on surprising Harry with a ridiculous banner, Harry was completely right about the tail-jokes, but then Dumbledore sent a note saying to meet him in the headmaster’s office, so he went, thinking he was absolutely in trouble for the one joke about eating the other champions’ ‘tails’. But when he got to the office Dumbledore was as cryptic as ever, going on about friendship and loyalty and how valuable he was, which was great for Ron’s ego until _the_ Albus Dumbledore pointed his wand at Ron’s face. From that moment on he doesn't really remember much, which pisses them all off. Draco to the point that he’s ready to march into Dumbledore’s office and have a word with the man himself.

“You think I won’t?! Dumbledore has been hiding from a _lot_ of people’s anger this year and I’ve about had it! What’s he gonna do next, hm? See if he can burn the champions alive?! Roast them over the fucking fire?!”

“Dragon, love, your flames will come out.” Pansy remarks, idly tying up her hair. Draco glares at her before relaxing into Harry, who still has a lot of questions.

“But wait, maybe what Ra said will calm him down? He’s a big deal, right? Maybe he can make Dumbledore, I dunno, calm down a bit?”

“He’s a big deal…” Millie echos, a little bit disgusted which doesn’t make sense at all. “He’s _only_ descendant of the first born son of Mother Ocean, _only_ one of the heads of the Kings of the Nine Seas, _only.”_

Harry raises an eyebrow, Hermione just sighs along with the rest of them.

Pansy rolls her eyes, “Blaise-Bear, you know it best.”

“Yes, yes I suppose I do.” Blaise sighs, and then he flicks his wand a bit and one of the books on the shelves comes flying out.

“We all know that the elements created magic, right? You all paid attention to that in History of Magic class?”

Harry nods, Blaise glares at Ron who just shrugs. 

“Ronald you are a menace, but so you’re aware, _yes_ magic evolved from the elements. Water being one of the four eldest, she was once known as Am'ma Veḷḷaṁ, but as Earth began to take over, and magical creatures began to rise, she was forced to split into different bodies. The first, what we know as rivers and lakes, is known as Ertt Vāṭṭar. The second, while most commonly known as Mother Ocean, is called Yathārt'tha Veḷḷaṁ. Okay? You with me?”

Harry nods once again, although this isn’t near as interesting as the story Geia showed him. 

“So, Mother Ocean, after the first few millennia of Magical Creatures, realized that too many things were being born and she couldn’t keep up with them. Too many creatures needed too much of her, the land was beginning to ruin her own creatures that had begun to evolve inside her, and so she split into nine seas, and in turn had nine children. The first was Kaṟupp, Ruler of the Black sea, Father to Rallam, King of the Black Sea. That is the king you met today, Harry you absolute dumbass.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Harry protests, letting go of Draco’s hand to wave it in front of him. “There’s no way! Rallam can’t be over fifty years old-”

“Harry, he’s nearly fifty thousand years old.”

Harry’s eyes bulge out of his head, _“What?!”_

Fred and George are laughing at him now, thank Godric Ginny finds Luna’s hair more interesting than this conversation.

“Yes. His father, King Kaṟupp, was born about the same time as the Old Trolls, so probably four hundred and thirty thousand years ago.”

Harry needs a full thirty minutes to digest that, but Blaise only gives him ten seconds.

“Anyways, the reason why it’s such a big deal, besides the obvious I mean, is because in the last couple of hundred years humans have been real dicks to Mother Ocean, just look at the amount of trash that’s polluting the waters. Obviously this isn’t good, but some merfolk are sympathetic to humans, some are not. King Rallam...is not. Well, he’s usually not on friendly terms with humans, and holds most of wizardkind in contempt for their similarities. So him not killing you, and then giving you his nickname as a show of friendship is a _big deal_ Harry. Do you get it now?”

Harry nods, not getting it whatsoever, but at least he does understand why Ra was so rude at first. Blaise is looking at him expectantly, and Harry realizes a bit too late that the whole room is looking at him funny.

“What? Did I do something?”

“You were the only one uninjured when you came out of the lake.” Hermione points out suspiciously.

And yeah? He was? Why is that such a big deal to people today?

“Um? Yeah, Ra healed me before we came up?”

Blaise’s jaw drops. 

“It was kinda gross, actually, he was rubbing blood onto this wound in my arm, it’s right-” Huh? That’s funny. Harry knows, he _knows_ that he was bleeding less than two hours ago. The cut was bad, probably from one of those pointy things he thought he dogged, Pomfrey let him go so he thought it wasn’t a big deal. But here, on his arm, instead of a scar, or even a jagged line that he was half expecting, are some weird blue symbols nearly translucent on his skin.

“What the fuck is-”

Blaise rushes forward, grabbing his arm in a particularly painful way and twists it until he can see it. Harry has no idea why this is happening, it literally just looks like a bunch of curly drawings to him, but he does know that Blaise is _fucking_ hurting him.

“Hey! Blaise-Bear!” He calls out, “What the fuck!”

Draco flicks Blaise on the forehead, whispering something in French that gets the boy to be a little gentler.

“What is it?” Hermione asks. The twins have suddenly become interested in the conversation again, even Ginny is looking up from Luna’s sleeping little face. 

“It's writing.” Blaise whispers. He sounds a little awe-stuck, which is something so unlike Blaise that Pansy comes over and checks his head for a fever. 

“Writing?” Harry scoffs, looking down at the marks on his arm. “There’s no way that’s writing-”

“കറുത്ത രാജാവിന്റെ അടയാളം.”

Every single person in the room blinks.

“I’m sorry,” Millie begins, “What?”

“It’s ancient Malayalam. The water language. It means ‘Mark of the Black King’.”

Draco sighs like he’s a thousand years old himself, “Did he do anything else to you, love?”

Harry takes a second to really look at his arm, Blaise’s wonder-filled face, and Draco’s tired one. Then he looks down and says, “Um, he kinda made me drink his blood?”

“What?” Draco asks, sitting up completely to look at him. 

Blaise is one second away from cutting off his arm and putting it in a museum. “He….you’ve been...what?”

“Yeah? I was drowning, so he just stuck his thumb in my mouth I guess.”

The Weasleys laugh at the obscurity of it all, Draco and the other purebloods blink at him, and Hermione is the only sane one who looks just as disgusted as he feels. Seriously, was blood sharing the only way? Harry feels like it’s a bit dramatic, but nothing like watching Blaise gain control of himself again.

Harry taps him on the forehead. “Hey, how do you know so much about this stuff?”

Draco elbows him in the side, so maybe he wasn’t supposed to ask that question, but Blaise just sighs and lets Pansy wrap herself around him in a back hug. 

“Magical Ancestry, dumbass. You should read up on yours.”

And that is an _excellent_ point. He hasn’t had much time to with, well, the _everything_ that’s been happening this year. Luna only gave him the book around Christmas time, and that was the day before the Yule Ball, the day before he and Draco officially got together, and well, Harry really forgot about the book when he was kissing Draco, plus he has that photo album that Sirius and Remus gave him, and he looks through that way too much for it to be healthy. That’s not even taking in school-work and preparing for the tasks.

So yeah, he should probably sit down with his Ancestry book and figure it out, but he promised to go by Hagrid’s hut and tell him all about the trial, and because Krum seems like the type to like big dogs, Cedric likes Hagrid, and Fleur’s sister also likes big dogs, all the other champions (and Gabbi) join him, and he can’t _not_ stay for tea with Hagrid, so there goes one day to look at the book.

And the next day Hermione sends out their end of the year study schedules, he has no idea what the final task will be, and he’s busy with living life in the present, so Harry makes a promise. 

He’ll do it in the summer, when he’s trapped at the Dursleys’ with nothing better to do than read about the dead people that might have loved him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Fleur really needs a confidence boost. After all, she did just expose her Veela in front of _everyone_ and he can see the papers haven’t exactly been nice about it. ‘Pretty Witch Or Ugly Monster?’ written by Rita Seeker and backed up by bigoted children who have no idea what they’re talking about. At least she was singing Harry’s praises instead of calling him a siren, Blaise would have a fit...much like Fleur is probably doing.

She wasn’t at breakfast, and she _never_ misses the blueberry muffins that grace Slytherin tables every weekend morning. Or her daily ten cups of coffee...

So yeah, Fleur needs a confidence boost, and a change in attitude.

Which is exactly why Draco goes to see her on Sunday morning, well, that and because his little cousin is there and Luna demanded he go with her.

 _“Go away.”_ Lynda, the only Bebuxton with red-hair answers. Draco just rolls his eyes.

_“We’re here to see Fleur.”_

_“Fleur doesn't want to see anyone.”_

_“We’re her fucking family, so open the door or I’m blasting in.”_

That seems to make them change their mind, as the door slowly creeps open to reveal bushy red hair and a frown. _“You’re risking her wrath, you know.”_

Draco just shrugs, pulling Luna in with him and making a b-line for Fleur’s room. It’s on one of the highest levels because she’s a seventh-year and at the top of most of her classes, all the way to the right because Madam Maxiene knows she loves fresh light in the morning. Spoiled is what she is, and rightfully so, in his humble opinion.

He would knock on the door, but there’s no point because he knows Fleur is in a Mood, so he just casually picks the lock and opens it as quietly as he can.

Gabbi is asleep in the corner, Fleur quietly hanging clothes. She pauses when she sees them and Merlin, Draco really hopes she hasn’t been crying this entire time.

Fleur’s room is neat as always, despite Gabbi being there for over an hour. If she’s anything like she was as a child she’ll have the place destroyed the second she wakes up. But he can worry about that later because right now he’s going to pull Fleur in for a long hug.

 _“I am sorry.”_ She says, _“Once they find out we share blood-”_

 _“It will mean nothing,”_ Draco soothes her, stepping back so Luna can get a hug as well, _“Look at My-ō-bu, she is related to us, but no one has called her a Veela.”_

Luna flushes, _“That is because they are busy calling me other things. Neither of you should worry, you forget that Harry encountered the Great King. That will hold their focus more than your Veela parts. Dragon always has good control, they will not assume.”_

She takes a seat beside Gabbi’s sleeping little face, brushing hair out of the sleeping girl’s eyes. Fleur smiles a bit at her, and then grabs Draco’s hands. _“I have something else I must apologize to you for personally.”_

_“If it’s about Harry I already know.”_

Fleur looks at him with wide eyes, Luna just keeps smiling, like she’s watching something she’s already expected.

_“He told us already.”_

She smirks at him, _“So we have stopped pretending that you’re not friends?”_

_“Shut up, it’s only because you’re family. I wanted to introduce him to Gabbi, but I guess that will have to wait.”_

Gabrielle stirs a bit at the sound of her name, blinking up to look at Luna a little confused. _“My-ō-bu? What are you- Dragon?! You’re here too?!”_

And from that point on Draco completely ignores the rest of the world for the day. Gabbi leaves tomorrow, so they spend the entire time playing games and talking late into the night. Gabbi tells them about Cousin Apolline and Cousin Monnie. She tells them that Grandma Aimee is coming to visit the second she gets back and yes, she’s just as furious as the rest of them. Apparently she’s already thanked Harry for saving her life when they went to visit Hagrid yesterday, which is great because Draco’s kinda thrilled at the idea of his family getting along with his boyfriend.

The night eventually comes to a close. Draco kisses his cousins on their foreheads, promising to see Fleur tomorrow, and then walks Luna back to the castle. He’s half tempted to get Winky to see if Harry is free, which reminds him that he really needs a way for them to communicate freely, which reminds him of his project. And because he has so much to do tomorrow and the rest of the week, Draco decides to go straight to bed.

He gets a letter from his father the next morning.

Not a note, not some poor set of instructions, but a letter.

  
  


_Dragon,_

_I apologize for taking so long to write, your mother takes care of most important things with you, so it was difficult to think of what to tell you. I’ve read up on what happened at the latest Tournament Task, Fudge is furious about King Rallam’s disappointment, but that’s what he gets for putting headmasters and Crouch in charge. The man’s son has been missing for a month now and that poor Percy Weasley child has had to take over his work. I’ll give the boy this, without him his entire department would fall apart. I was happy to learn of Fleur’s and Gabbi’s safety, their parents flooed by with Gabbi before returning to Paris. And while your mother and I are furious with Dumbledore for his recklessness, we were relieved that you were not under the lake._

_I understand who you are important to, and who is important to you, and I hope to Merlin that neither of you suffer for the other. I’ve heard from Severus that your school-work is going well, that you’ve been taking extra classes with Pomfrey. Healing is in the family, you know._

He goes on to talk about work, how Sirius and Remus have nearly finished redecorating the Black Ancestral House, and it’s so...normal. What any regular father and son would talk about. Boring, sure, and lengthy as fuck, but it’s _everything_ to him. It’s his _dad_ not Lucius, not ‘father’ none of that distant-ensuring bullshit. Just dad, complaining about Sirius’s bad alcohol.

Draco writes back in turn, tells him about the experience of seeing King Rallam in real life, complains about Moody, tells him about how excited he is for his Transfiguration project, how much he likes lessons with Poppy. 

It’s not much, it’s not perfect even, but it’s a fucking start. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“We’re not going to get any work done like this.”

Draco is right, they’re not going to get any work done, and that is exactly the point.

“It’s fine,” Harry drags him closer to the blankets by the fire, further away from their homework. “Finals aren’t for another two months.”

“You still haven’t started on your Transfiguration project!” Draco warns, but he’s not resisting so Harry counts it as a win.

“That’s because my project is simple, plus we have our presentations a day before you so you won’t be able to upstage me.”

Draco sighs, casting one final look to the tables before shrugging and sinking down into the mounds of pillows that Harry carefully arranged. “I’m only agreeing to this because you nearly died a few days ago, but one day the novelty of that is going to wear off.”

“Think of how blissful it will be for you and Hermione when you accept that Death and I are frequent acquaintances.”

Draco hits him.

They haven't had a chance to get together by themselves since the Second Task, partly because Draco was determined to spend Sunday with his family, Monday brought school, and since three days is really their limit for not spending time together, they resolved to just stay up later than usual and meet today, or rather, tonight.

“You know Sirius will be calling in an hour, he always calls on Wednesdays.”

“And we have an hour until then.”

Draco snorts at him, but he does take Harry’s hand, lightly moving up until he’s gripping the marked part of his arm. “At the rate you’re going you’ll have a full collection by the time we graduate.”

“I dunno, the others aren’t as cool as Merfolk Script and a Lightening Scar.”

“Well, I never pegged Quirrell as the artistic type. And Lockheart was far too stupid to have any redeemable traits.”

Harry goes a little quiet remembering last year’s little adventure. He wonders if Draco still has the scars on his back, the ones that would be right beneath his fingertips at the moment.

“I recall that you have a set yourself.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never had a scar in my entire life.”

Harry laughs again, resisting the urge to talk about the two he _knows_ are there. Maybe Narcissa will see them one day and take care of it, he highly doubts she’d want her son walking about with such foul reminders. And because Draco looks a little sad at the topic of conversation, Harry leans in and kisses him softly. 

Finals month starts soon, he still has a task to go, still has to figure out what he’s going to do about Geia this summer, but at least his boyfriend and the rest of their merry crew will be with him through it all.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Between classes, sneaking out to see Harry, Geia, or Fleur, his Transfiguration project, tea with Severus, writing to his mother, lessons with Poppy, and Hermione’s study schedule the rest of the month flies by. Before he knows it, finals are three weeks away, the final task is six weeks away, and Poppy is proud of him.

Poppy is _fucking_ proud of him.

Granted, she fucking should be because he’s spent the better part of the last month and a half working on this stupid little thing. 

“Are you going to show me how it works, or just explain the theory?” Poppy asks with a little smile, and because he has the time before their morning Saturday rush, Draco grabs Frankie from his closet and the little pocket watch that used to be normal.

Then he slashes Frankie’s skin open with his wand, presses the watch’s setting button three times, and opens it to find the thankfully right creme, applies it to the wound, and watches with Poppy as the wound begins to close.

“There are clicks, and it has the ten basic creams and salves from that book you showed me. I made them correspond with the emergency of a situation, so the ones most important have the least amount of clicks. I figured it could be used for medical emergencies or for those that don’t have a lot of medical experience.”

Poppy’s eyes widen. “I want one.” She looks like she might snatch it right out of his hands, so he slips it in his pocket, but she’s still on about how wonderful it is.

“Think about it Draco! There are endless uses! It could be issued to prevent minor injuries in students so hospitals wouldn’t risk overfilling, or for travels to prevent deaths on the roads, Aurors would love it, and Minerva is going to be _so proud of you!_ Have you shown Severus yet?”

No, no he has not. Partly because he wanted to make sure it actually works, and also because he has tea scheduled with the man at two. It’s the first time they’re both had a free moment to enjoy, and Draco’s very excited to have time with his godfather, but fate has other plans because he walks in to find Ellios and William sitting on Snape’s love seat.

“Please, come in Draco. We have much to discuss.”

Merlin, this is _so_ not what he wanted to spend the day doing, but he steps inside anyways, making his way to his chair that is thankfully by Snape and not the family. He sits nervously, watches Ellios and Severus nod to each other, and then Ellios is speaking.

“Draco,” They begin, “You have been a good friend to me so far. For that I am indebted. You not only kept my relationship with Severus a secret, but my relationship to my son quiet as well.”

“Nobi-” William tries to interrupt, but Ellios holds up their hand and he quiets.

“We owe you an explanation.”

Severus sighs, offering him a cup of tea that he takes because this is apparently where he’ll be for a minute.

“To begin our story, we must speak of the day my life and Severus’s collided. It was during the first war, on a battlefield in…”

“In Yorkshire.” Snape pipes up quietly. “We had been sent to clear out wizards so the Dark Lord, sorry Draco, _Riddle,_ could come in and clean out the muggles. He liked to do those types of things back then…”

All of them grimace at the thought, but Ellios continues. “A fleet of Aurors had just been taken down, I was a healer back then, out on the field with everyone who was not in a hospital. It was horrible, dead bodies on every corner, hospitals too filled for the sick…” They look out into the distance, William takes their hand and their eyes clear a little. “I was checking for live ones, people I could save, or at least hold over until I could get them to a medical base, and I found Severus. He was bleeding out behind a bar, stuck by a curse. The thing about being a healer, Draco, is that it does not matter who is hurt, you must heal them. Severus did not have his mask, but I saw the mark, and I healed him anyways because if I had not it would have been his blood on my hands.”

Snape snorts lightly, “They kept me in an abandoned shack for three days. Everyday they would come in with their wands raised, check on my wounds, and make me eat.”

“He was an ass about it,” Ellios says fondly, “But he was kind for a Death Eater. He told me to leave him, that his death would be a good thing. One less person on their side….”

“We kept meeting after I was healed.” Snape explains. “Every new town they were there, and every time I would sneak back under polyjuice and help them. Brew what I could, drag the bodies they couldn’t.”

“And then the other Death Eaters found me.” Ellios sighs. They take William’s hand, squeezing it as if apologizing.

“I never knew what he looked like, but he was my punishment. I healed too many people they wanted dead, and he was the roughest…..”

It takes a second to realize what they’re saying….what was done to them. Snape can’t look their way, instead gazing at his desk. 

“When Severus found me in the dungeon where he was keeping me, he killed the man and took me away. We found out I had been held for three months, and I was already starting to show that I was with child. He kept me safe and hidden, became my friend. Helped me the first few months that Willie was born, and then, when William was old enough, he helped us sneak away to Russia where I found out about the Durm. About the students that were suffering there, and I had my mind healer license, but because of the war I had not gotten the chance to use it, so I became the school mind healer.”

“Two years later and the war was over, but I stayed at the Durm because I could not afford to come home. And Willie…show him, love.”

William looks physically pained to be doing this, but he sighs long and deep, and then Draco’s looking at Ellios and a mini male version of Ellios.

“I was right! You _are_ a Metamorphmagus!”

“Shut up.”

Ellios slaps William lightly on the hand, turning back to Draco. “We have not had easy lives, and William and I both are terrified about the outcome of the future war, which is why Willie has been poorly tailing you and your friends. Parents like to believe that war will never fall to burden their children, but it is simply unavoidable. We needed to know who’s hands we had left Severus in, and I am sorry for not speaking the truth to you sooner. But Severus and I agreed it would be best to make sure you collected your footing before we start.”

“Start what?” 

William rolls his eyes, “We’re gonna train your mind stupid. You and that Harry Potter git.”

“Hey! Harry isn’t a git, he’s-wait. Hold on a moment. Train my mind? I already have pretty good occulamany shields, Malfoys learn them at an early age.”

Ellios laughs, “The mind can grow in my ways, even with shields protecting it it is still a mind. Not a fortress, or even a safe garden. I would like to speak with your mother before beginning, but I need you to want this.”

“I mean,” Draco looks to Severus, who nods, “I’m always happy to grow, but when would we start? How would we do it?”

Ellios smiles again, all light and happy. William doesn’t look pleased in the slightest. “I am taking a job here next year, my classroom began preparations at the beginning of the year,” So they're the reason for Hermione’s beginning of the year anger….interesting. “If you do not wish to take my class, I can extend office hours to you.”

Draco nods, because it _does_ sound like a good idea and Narcissa will be happy if it makes him harder to kill, so he doesn’t really have any objections.

And then he shows them all his project because it’s fucking cool and he can’t wait to slip it into Harry’s pocket before the next task. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! just an update i'm gonna try to start posting on sundays, and i'm super thankful for the support i've been getting these last couple of chapters ily all so much! also i'm already working on the chapter 22 so like....hopefully there won't be a lull in updates again. also, i'm going to make a big post on tumblr that's a master list with pictures for the chapters and fics.  
> my tumblr is mistake-snake if you wanna yell at me and i'll see you next chapter! <3


	21. Moody's Moody day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I dunno, the library is also a valid option.”
> 
> “Don’t make me hex you,” Draco sighs. 

The Final Task is announced two weeks before finals, and sense no one is really sure what the fuck is going to happen in a maze and Hermione is his competition for Top Of Class, Draco hasn’t gotten an ounce of sleep. When he’s not studying or doing homework, he’s getting together with Winky and trying to figure out how to keep Harry alive, and when he’s not doing either of those he’s with Poppy who he is apparently indebted to. In all honesty he  _ loves  _ learning more about medical magic, but he’s not getting a grade for this so what’s the point other than to further exhaust himself?

He’s so tired that  _ Severus  _ is worried, which is an issue because if he doesn’t fix it soon then his godfather will tell his mother and Draco values his sanity thank you very much. 

But because he’s so tired and also a little busy being dragged to class by Pansy, he almost thinks the scene before him isn’t real. 

See, he’s never seen Luna cry the entire time he’s known her. Luna doesn’t  _ do  _ crying. She does vaguely disappointed frowns or these heartbreaking looks at best but Draco’s  _ never,  _ not  _ once,  _ seen her cry. So when she barrels out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and directly into his chest, Draco’s a little confused, a little alarmed, and then  _ very  _ pissed off. 

_ “What happened?”  _ He asks in Japanese to comfort her, pulling back to wipe at her eyes. His friends crowd around her like a full body wall, which he expects from Pansy and Blaise but it’s nice that Millie and Theo do it too. 

Another big red flag is that Luna doesn’t answer his question, she just grasps at his robes with shaky hands, which brings his Red Flag List to three. Luna loves answering questions, even if she’s spewing actual bullshit and knows it. Sometimes she likes to lead him to an answer in the most confusing way possible if he’s being a dick, or give some silly reply just so a reply is given. And the clothes! She doesn’t cling to people! She’s always so independent, she’s had to take care of her father her whole life for Merlin’s sake! And here she is, shaking like a leaf and refusing to meet his eyes.

_ “Luna…”  _ Pansy joins in, rubbing the girl’s back like he images Fleur would do to Gabbi. 

Luna shakes her head, but lets Draco pull her in for a hug. After a moment the shaking dies down and the warning bell rings. She looks up at him with a pathetic excuse for a smile, Draco returns a grimace while he wipes her cheeks again.

_ “Are you okay?” _

_ “No,”  _ she answers back,  _ “I’m taking some friends and we are going to retire to the tower for a bit.” _

A fourth Red Flag! Ravenclaws? Missing class?! What  _ happened?!  _

_ “Please be careful, Dragon.”  _ Is all he gets out of her before she’s rushing off, books held tightly to her chest, and because he’s not a complete idiot, Draco pulls his group of friends closer, casts a Patronus and sends it to Fleur.

If he can’t get the truth out of Luna, Fleur sure as hell can. Plus, Fleur’s always been good at comforting people, it must be an older sibling thing because Ron and the Twins are rather good at it too.

_ “Do you have any idea what that was about?”  _ Pansy asks as they enter the room. She continues in Japanese, Draco loves her for it. The last thing he needs is people knowing how worried he gets for his family. 

_ “No clue. I’ve never seen her so upset before.”  _

_ “We’ll get her tea during lunch, Fleur will be with her any minute now.” _

That doesn’t make him feel any better. Someone hurt his sweet little cousin in Moody’s class and he’s willing to bet his entire trust fund that the professor didn’t do shit about it. In fact, he probably  _ was  _ the cause. Draco’s half convinced the man is going to torture them in this room one of these days, it has the right look for it. For some ungodly reason there are burners in the room today, flicking with flames that threaten to spill out and burn hair, the reason no one sits in the back right corner. A little more sinister than the dungeons at the Malfoy Manor, and Draco has a personal reason to hate those. 

Maybe he’ll just end up hating every dungeon-looking room he comes across, because if his father torturing him wasn’t enough, his professor is about to do it too.

For a second he’s sure he heard the man wrong. Surely performing illegal curses on underaged wizards is, well,  _ illegal,  _ but then again they  _ did  _ just risk the lives of underaged wizards for a game so maybe anything goes this year. If that’s the case Draco might end up committing a murder. 

Scratch that, Draco will definitely end up committing a murder. 

As far as he’s concerned the only reason Moody gets to live today is because he promises to only practice the Imperius Curse, which is ‘no big deal’ to him, but apparently isn’t grounds for murder, according to Blaise.

Draco’s still half convinced this is some weird joke, and then Moody makes Padma Patil come to the front of the room. In one swift, concentrated motion Moody casts  _ imperio  _ and suddenly the reality of it all hits him. 

He’s fine, he has  _ a lot  _ of experience dealing the unforgivable that could be dealt with. His limit is five minutes under Crucio and he’d gotten to the point that he could throw Lucius’s Imperius off if he wanted a beating afterwards. Sure, it’s nearly been a year, but he doubts those skills would leave him so quickly.

Draco also knows most of his friends are safe. Belle would  _ never  _ let anyone control her son, Blaise is probably better off than he is at dealing with mind-control. Pansy is too damn stubborn for her own good, and Mr. Parkinson has too many political enemies to  _ not  _ prepare her. Theo’s dad was once a willing Death Eater and Draco knows by the sheer lack of panic in his eyes that he’ll be fine. 

Millie is the only one he’s not sure about, well, her and Crabbe and Goyle. Yeah, they’re not his problem anymore, but they were friends once and their parents are too confident. They’d rather teach their sons how to cast Unforgivables, not withstand them. Daphne is also an issue. She’s eyeing her sister with growing concern and that just  _ can’t  _ be good. 

Padma’s face grows panicked, but she doesn’t move an inch when Moody tells her to. She’s resisting. Good.

“I said  _ spin.” _

Padma’s left foot moves once, and just like that she’s lost to it, spinning wherever Moody’s wand sends her, which just so happens to be by the burners. Where the flames are. 

To his happy surprise, most of the Slytherins don’t like this. He sees all types of bullshit hiding techniques, some like his own, hiding their wands underneath tables, some using light jackets, some papers just big enough to hide the woods. Everyone in the room seems to be prepared, but Padma is released at the last second. She goes scrambling back, bumping into desks and chairs. Astoria grabs her by the wrist and leads her back to their table but Draco  _ sees  _ the way she looks in Daphne's direction. 

Fuck. 

Moody clicks his tongue like he’s disappointed teenagers can’t resist spells that  _ Aurors  _ can’t resist, and then eyes the Slytherin side of the room. Draco is already gritting his teeth and getting ready to stand but a loud screech of a chair from behind him makes him stop. 

“Allow me, professor.” Theo says in a voice that’s usually reserved for Justin Finch-Fletchley. Draco has no fucking clue where this is going, but if Theo makes Moody angry enough to lash out that is a perfect excuse to kill him. It’ll hold up in court he’s sure. 

“I usually prefer it when men are rough with me,” Theo wiggles his hips as he walks to the front of the room, something Draco has never seen him do before. It’s so funny he would burst out in laughter under different circumstances. 

“You will be mean to me, won’t you professor?” 

Moody snarls “Shut up.” and Theos mouth closes. Draco didn’t even see him cast  _ imperio.  _

He’d be impressed by the wordless magic, but all he’s done is get Theo to stop talking. The boy is still making silent kissy faces at him, blinking quickly as Moody rubs his eyes just for their viewing pleasure. 

“Go.” Moody glares, and then Theo’s feet are walking towards the windows. “Open them.”

No way. No fucking way. Draco doesn’t even care about hiding his wand now because if Moody thinks he’s going to let one of his friends jump out a castle window he is sorely mistaken. 

Theo looks calm with his back facing them. And then Moody says “jump” and Theo hops. Just once standing in place. Just enough to give Draco a miniature heart attack. 

“That’s not what I meant!” 

To their surprise, Theo just shrugs and turns around. “Well I rather think that’s your fault for not being specific, don’t you? Although if you were implying I should jump out the window I’ll have you know that is  _ highly  _ illegal.”

Moody gapes at him, then lifts his wand once more and Draco decides that is  _ more  _ than enough. 

“Excuse me Professor, but you’ve demonstrated an Unforgivable curse twice now, on students nonetheless. I’m sure all of our parents will be  _ furious  _ about this, after all a lesson with a test subject that isn’t their children would be much more appropriate.” 

Moody turns to him slowly. 

“I didn’t imply that our lesson was over, did I, Mister Malfoy?”

No. No he hasn’t. But Draco is very much ready for it to be over. 

“Stand up.”

_ Fucking hell.  _ Short of killing him, there’s not much Moody can do to actually hurt him, so Draco stands and hopes his years of abuse will finally be of use to him. 

Sure enough, the second he’s standing Moody addresses the rest of the class, telling them that the other curse they’re learning about today is the Cruciatus curse. Apparently the third years weren’t as amused by it as they were when he made a third year Slytherin dance. 

Wait a moment. 

He tested the curses on third years too?

Moody makes the mistake of naming names. Telling them who he used as demonstrations. He fumes at the Slytherins who are called, and holds his breath when Moody tells them of how brave the little blonde Ravenclaw was. 

“Apparently strong will runs in the family, which is why I’ve chosen Mister Malfoy here to prove that theory. Do you think he’ll be able to resist as well?” 

The class is  _ so  _ not interested in finding out. They look terrified for him, some  _ of  _ him because his hair is starting to rise in anger and he’s sure his skin must be growing a rather awful color and he’s two seconds away from lashing out at Moody. 

And then a familiar world is spoken and Draco’s body seizes up. The word threatens to make his brain shut down, but this is an asshole he already doesn’t trust and his father’s curse was  _ much  _ stronger.

No matter what, he will not scream. 

Draco stands tall, glaring at the professor and letting his anger outweigh the pain. He crosses his arms, letting a wall of violent magic protect him. It’s almost laughable, watching his professor struggle to hurt him, after a full minute Moody gives up. 

“Very impressive, Mister Malfoy.” 

Draco doesn’t say a single word. He collects his things and calmly makes his way out the door. It’s not a surprise that the rest of the class follows him. They only had fifteen minutes left anyways, and no one would want to stay if given the option. 

Pansy and Blaise catch up to him, grab his shaking arms, and lead him to a classroom. He vaguely hears them tell Millie and Theo to get Fleur and Luna, but he’s too busy controlling his anger.

He’s never been this upset before. He’s never had to focus this hard to remain in control, but he keeps thinking of everything. Of Dumbledore’s rash decisions that keep hurting his family. Harry looking dead in King Ralham’s arms. Fleur and Gabbi being manipulated. Ron put in danger. Luna trying to withstand the Cruciatus curse from the same fucker that turned him into a ferret. Sirius left to rot in prison. All the lies, the fucked up shit that  _ keeps  _ happening to them...

Draco’s not really sure what makes him snap, he really couldn’t pinpoint a moment or a cause that’s been boiling up since the beginning of the year, all he knows is one second the classroom is intact, Pansy and Blaise are watching him carefully, and the next second the classroom is  _ destroyed  _ and Fleur is holding his hands, counting down to him in French.

_ “With us again?”  _

Draco takes a deep breath, wincing at the damage he didn’t mean to do.  _ “Did I hurt anyone?”  _ He whispers back.

“Nope. Scared us half to death though, Theo and Millie might need new underwear.”

Draco looks towards Blaise’s voice to see Luna in Pansy’s arms, Millie and Theo cowering in the corner.

“He’s a Veela...oh my god that makes so much sense what the fuck.” Theo is whispering like it might be the only thing keeping him sane. 

Fleur rolls her eyes, “He is not a Veela. He is less Veela than I, and I am only a quarter.” She turns her full attention back to him,  _ “Don’t worry, I nearly did the same to Luna’s room. Moody is lucky you snapped or he would be dead and we’d both be in Azkaban.” _

Draco snorts at that, letting Luna run over and hug him. 

“I told you to be careful, yet you make a little firestorm.” She pouts, glancing at the scorch marks on the walls.

“I know, I know. I lost control.”

“Of course you did. You can’t learn to control something you never touch.” Luna says, pulling back and dusting off his robes, “You should explore  _ all  _ of your ancestry, not just the convenient parts.”

Draco flicks her on the forehead for that, but then he signs and pulls her in for another hug just because that’s his little cousin who just went through mild torture. “How long did he hold you for?”

“Only a few seconds.” Luna whispers after a moment. “I’m scared to tell Ginny, she’s going to react just like you and Fleur did.”

Oh fuck. Ginny...he hopes she hasn’t gone through that and oh-! Draco scrambles away, grabs his wand and casts a quick  _ timbus  _ to see lunch is halfway over. He nods once to himself and then looks at his group of friends. 

“We’ve got to tell Snape.”

Blaise gives him a once over, casts a couple of spells that make Draco feel like his skin is being ripped off, and then nods. “Let’s go visit your godfather, then.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Snape is not happy about having his private lunch interrupted by almost all of the Slytherin Fourth Years, but once he sees the look in Draco’s eyes he invites them in with minimal complaint.

Because they’ve missed lunch, Snape makes them tea and forces them to sit down. Only after tea is served does he allow Draco to speak.

“It’s Moody, sir. He’s lost his fucking mind-”

“Draco Malfoy!” Snape snaps, glaring something awful. Fleur looks mildly impressed. “I will not hear that type of language from you-”

“He used the Imperius Curse on a third year!” Draco shouts over him, “He crucioed Luna, imperioed Padma Patil and Theo, and he used the Cruciatus on me. The only reason he didn’t get to use it on the rest of us is because I walked out and everyone followed. He tried to make Theo jump out a window, not to mention the burns he tried to inflict on Patil.”

Snape looks at them for a moment, blinking a few times, and it’s one of those moments right before a storm hits. Draco watches his godfather’s face fill with rage, and just to make the whole thing better Pansy says “One moment, if you will, do the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs not have the class now?”

Fuck. Harry’s about to witness someone get  _ tortured  _ and knowing him, that means he’ll end up getting  _ involved  _ and there is  _ no way in hell  _ that Draco will be able to refrain from killing Moody if he lays a single hand on the idiot. 

Riddle is one thing, but a pig-like professor with a bad eye? Hell no. 

Snape starts out the door and Draco can’t  _ not  _ follow him. If they get there and Harry has been cursed he is going to skin Moody alive. Who gives a fuck what’s illegal and what’s considered learning? Poppy would be  _ happy  _ to say it was an experiment gone wrong. Draco’s sure she could figure out something to explain why another professor was cut like a piece of steak. 

Unfortunately Severus has other ideas. He stops one step outside of his office, then turns to Draco and holds him by the shoulders.

“You’re staying here.”

“But-”

“No, Draco. This is not up for discussion. You’ve just been subjected to an Unforgivable while in my care, and you  _ will  _ go and rest.”

“But I’m not-”

Severus grabs one of his arms, holding it up so Draco can watch his own hand shake.

“If you must do something,” Severus says softly, “Get potions ready for other students. Send Luna and Pansy to gather the others affected. I’ll find a way to make sure the Huffles and Lions are taken care of, but I can’t do any of that until I know my precious godson is safe. You’ve been through enough for a lifetime so  _ please.  _ Just...rest.”

Draco looks into black eyes and sighs. He can’t go against Severus now, not after all that. So instead he slinks back into the office and busies himself with healing potions.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Harry is going to do something stupid. 

There’s no way around it. Moody has Neville, fucking  _ Neville,  _ standing up in front of them all. 

He thought it was bad enough when Hermione nearly burned her hand under Imperius _ ,  _ and while he’s never been fond of Susan Bones, he hates seeing her fight back tears twenty minutes after she burned some of her bangs off. She’s lucky Hermione cast _aguamenti_ __ in time, but then again that’s how Hermione got dragged into the mess in the first place.

And he knows he’s already in a death tournament, but it’s Neville, and he’s seen what Cruciatus curse does to a person. Harry still has nightmares of Draco’s body twitching on the ground...he’d prefer if his friends didn’t join that mental image.

So yeah, Harry is going to do something stupid, but, as always, it’s for a good cause. 

“Do you know what it is, boy?” Moody asks softly, like the entire class doesn’t know what’s about to happen. Like Harry doesn’t have his arm and excuse to McGonagall at the ready. He can’t wait to tell Sirius. Though, if Draco just caved and told Narcissa about the ferret incident they wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. 

Neville nods, Harry tightens his grip on his wand. “Yes, sir...it’s the Cruciatus Curse….said to drive people mad with pain…”

Moody has this sick little glint in his eye, and for some strange reason Ron is nearly purple next to him. 

“Would you care to demonstrate?”

“Professor!” Hermione gasps, “That is a torture technique and highly illegal to use on underage-”

“Perhaps you’d like to take his place, Miss Granger?”

Harry and Ron both grab her arm and squeeze it. They already had to watch her nearly burn her hands, no way in  _ hell  _ are they going to listen to her scream without killing him. Neville squares his shoulders, walking to the front of the room. “I can do it.” 

And no, no that’s not right either! Harry starts to raise his wand, Moody fires the curse with a flick of his wrist, the door flies open. 

He’s never been so happy to see Snape in his entire life. And that’s saying something because the potions master looks  _ furious.  _

Snape strides into the room, expelling Moody’s wand and cutting off the sharp, pain-filled scream coming from the boy. He reaches Neville right as the kid’s knees buckle, surprisingly letting him lean on a black-clad shoulder.

“Professor Snape.” Moody snarls, “You’re interrupting my class time.”

“I believe I’m interrupting a torture session, actually.” Snape snarks back, and Harry kinda gets how Draco doesn't hate him. “First third years, then fourth years, tell me, Moody, were you planning on harming first years too?”

“I was harming no one-“

“Then you won’t mind when I cast an Unforgivable on you. It is for,” Snape’s teeth bare like a snarling dog,  _ “educational purposes,  _ you understand.”

“That is quite enough, Severus.” 

Harry looks to the door to see McGonagall fuming mad. She walks in calmly, standing in front of Neville and doesn’t bother asking a question. 

A chill goes down the back of his spine at the sight of her.

Moody still tries to explain, offering a “I was just demonstrating-” before McGonagall has him in a full body bind. She ‘harumps’ once, then turns to the class. 

“Those who have been used as ‘examples’ are to follow Professor Snape to the hospital wing, everyone else return to your dorms. I’ll speak to your teachers and Heads of house, you have the rest of the day off.”

McGonagall turns to Snape, clutching his shoulder. Harry hears her say something like ‘godson’, ‘okay’, and ‘I’ll take care of it” before Snape nods and helps Neville into a standing position. 

Hermione insists that she’s fine and she doesn’t need to go to the hospital wing but Harry and Ron refuse to fucking risk it so they force her to follow Snape, who doesn’t even comment on her tag alongs. He does, however, raise an eyebrow when Harry sneaks away from Hermione’s side and into Draco’s sheet-room.

Harry isn’t at all surprised to see Blaise and Pansy there holding his hands, or LuLu curled in a white ball on his stomach. 

“Not you too,” Draco tries to look annoyed but the relief is clear. “I’ll assume you’ve come here to nag me since you’re not hurt.”

“Which one was it?” Harry asks quietly, stepping around Pansy to cup Draco’s cheek. She pats the side of the hospital chair so Harry sits down on the arm, not caring at all when Pansy uses his back as a pillow. 

“Which one was what-“

Blaise is  _ way  _ too irritated for comfort. “It was the Cruciatus.  _ Again. _ ”

“A full minute,” Pansy adds sadly, “He was under it for a full minute and he didn’t even flinch.”

He has no words for this situation, but he has Draco’s right hand. Harry fiddles with it, playing with his fingers in an effort to calm himself down.

“We could kill him.”

“No.”

“We could tell Narcissa, she’ll take care of it-”

_ “No,  _ Harry.”

Blaise stifles a laugh, he can feel Pansy shaking behind him.

“Look,” Harry says, “They’re going to find out eventually. McGonagall is probably wrangling the House Heads to write letters home. She’s going to find out tomorrow, wouldn’t you rather her hear it from your own mouth?”

Draco gives him a highly irritated but complaintive look, and Harry knows he’ll never admit it but he’s  _ right.  _ Narcissa would be  _ furious  _ to learn what the man done to her son, and honestly, Harry is all for helping her in whatever murder plot she comes up with.

“He’s right.” Pansy says quietly. 

Draco sighs, “Shut up.” He closes his eyes for a second, taking in a few deep breaths. “Who did he get from your class?”

Harry waits a beat too long, which is apparently grounds for Pansy to get angry. “Who was it Harry? Who did he torture?”

“No one.” Harry says, “Well, kinda. Snape got involved, um...well, it started with Susan Bones. He used the Imperius Curse to make her go by the fires, and she ended up with her bangs on fire, and then Hermione put it out and called Moody a barbarian, so he tried to make her burn her own hands, don’t worry, she didn’t! Ron and I had our wands ready just in case, but she fought it off...and then, well, he was going to use the Cruciatus on Neville but-”

“On Longbottom?!” The Slytherins gasp at the same time.

“That fucking prick!”

“Maybe I should let mum kill him.”

Harry is very confused, and it must show on his face because Blaise nods to Pansy who’s so irritated her explanation kinda sounds like an accusation.

“Harry,  _ how do you not know this?  _ Longbottom’s parents were _ tortured to death _ under the Cruciatus. Literally, Bellatrix Lestrange tortured them until they committed suicide. Their bodies were found in a river by the Longbottom estate. He was barely a year old, honestly! Why do you think he lives with his Grandmother and not them?!”

Harry suddenly has a new rage building up inside. Naturally, it was more fucked up than he thought it was. Torturing kids is awful in itself, but using the same methods on a child whose parents died from it? A whole new level.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell Narcissa-”

“I’ll have Winky tell her and Padfoot to firecall us tonight.”

Harry blinks twice. “We’re telling Padfoot?”

Draco glares at him, “If I have to tell my parents you have to tell yours.”

And okay, that seems reasonable, but if they’re bargaining right now, Harry has something he kinda wants.

“Deal. But, I want to do something nice for Neville.”

All three of his Slytherins blink at him. Pansy, in a very dramatic fashion, switches from the chair to the end of Draco’s bed just so she can stare at him.

“And you’re telling us this because?”

“Because it involves us. All of us, the whole gang.”

“What are you on about?” Blaise asks, eyebrow raising in suspicion.

“Well, since you asked, I’ve been thinking-”

“That’s never a good thing.”

Harry shoots Pansy a glare but keeps going, “We all have each other, right? In my room, Ron and I have the lot of you, and Dean and Seamus have each other and their Gryffindor pals, but who does Neville have?”

They begin to answer for him, but it was really rhetorical question.

“That’s right, no one. And before you correct me, yes we’re all friends, but he doesn’t have anyone to be  _ close  _ with. So, I was thinking we could add him to the gang.”

His friends don’t say anything, which is normally a bad sign for him, so Harry rushes out something he  _ knows  _ is important to them.

“Come on, he saved my life with the gillyweed, and he’ll probably catch on anyways, plus it’s the perfect excuse for you all to add Nott to the group.”

Draco stares at him. “You want to add Theo to our group?”

“Yeah? He always hangs out with you all, and Millie’s right, he’s not  _ stupid,  _ so he probably already has an idea of what’s happening. Also, Hermione is convinced he’s gay and if he’s apart of your Slytherin friends I can’t see him being awful, and this way we’ll be gaining a Lion and a Snake! No one’s outnumbered!”

The three of them share a look and then Blaise and Pansy burst out laughing despite Draco’s annoyed eye-roll.

“Merlin’s balls Harry, we’ve taught you well, huh?”

Pansy smiles, “We’ll make a Slytherin out of you yet.”

Harry’s half tempted to tell them about the whole Sorting Hat ordeal from first year, but it’s best not to stroke their egos. Besides, he has bigger problems. Like keeping Sirius from going to jail for a murder he  _ might  _ actually commit .

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Sirius is going to go to jail. 

Rightly so this time, he is going to brutally curse a man within an inch of his life and then make him bleed out in the Malfoy dungeons. He can feel his darker magic surrounding him, drowning out the light fixtures that they just replaced, threatening to submerge him in the shadows and honestly he is fully okay with looking as scary as his mother did back in the day. 

Narcissa and Remus aren’t doing much better. 

To his left he can feel heat radiating off his cousin, her hair tickles his arms, if he looks down he’ll probably see her nails starting to file into claws. To his right Remus is visibly shaking, clenching and unclenching his jaw to an effort to stay calm.

“Moody fucking did what?”

Narcissa doesn’t even comment on his language, instead hissing out “I’ll skin him alive.”

“Use it for leather,” Remus adds.

They _ have _ been needing a new rug for one of the guest rooms. If they put fur on top no one will know the bottom layer is human skin, plus it’s a great way to dispose of a body…

“We’ve already thought of that,” Draco sighs through the fire, “And I’m fine, by the way. Didn’t feel a thing because I was so mad. Sure, he tortured me a bit, but, friendly reminder, he was going to make an  _ underaged child  _ jump out of a window.”

Narcissa  _ seethes  _ next to him, going so hot it actually hurts a bit. 

“What did Severus say?” Remus asks. 

“A lot.” Draco leans away from the image, “He was in favor of burning Moody alive but apparently Dumbledore has other ideas.”

“Other ideas?!” Narcissa snarls right as Sirius says “What, like poison?”

“Unfortunately not...finals start on Monday, and since it’s so close to the end of the year, they’re letting him stay under house-arrest.”

_ “They’re letting him stay?!” _

Harry nods like he understands their anger completely. Sirius briefly worries that his godson might try something stupid like he always does, but then Draco is talking again.

“Under lock and key!” He protests, “Severus and McGonagall are going to conduct the DADA exams, and before you ask,  _ yes _ Poppy gave us all a thorough examination. She’s also not letting me help her tomorrow morning because of it all.”

“You’re more annoyed at that than you are at the curses.” Remus sounds older than he is, more evidence of the weariness he gets after full moons. The man can never stay angry for long these days. 

Draco scoffs, “Of course I am! I’ve dealt with much worse than a lousy attempt at torture, but my grades are very important to me! Moody’s lucky Fleur was there to calm me down before I burned his classroom down!”

Narcissa goes cold in an instant, hair flouncing down in a swift drop. “You exposed yourself?”

“Not really.” Draco shrugs, “Pansy and Blaise got me to a classroom before I could do anything too bad. Millie and Theo know now, but we can trust them.”

“Draco, you  _ know-” _

“I know...he made Luna cry!” 

Remus pinches his brow, Narcissa frowns, shaking her head just once before speaking. 

“Did Fleur attack him?”

“No. She was going to, but then she had to calm me down and forgot to kill him.”

“Good.” Sirius raises an eyebrow at her, not quite believing that  _ Narcissa  _ is saying ‘good’ to a lack of death. “Her parents are furious about the papers, imagine if Seeker got wind of her killing a professor.”

That he can believe. Much like a cockroach, Rita Seeker is hard to kill and dealing with her is just fucking awful. It’s going to be hard to swallow, but they can always wait to kill Moody until the known Veela relatives are too far away to blame. 

Like in Paris. Maybe Sirius should pack the whole lot of them up and move to Paris. It’s certainly safer, and prettier. The food is amazing, he’s sure Harry and the Weasleys can handle learning French. And that Hermione girl is so smart she’ll probably learn it before they have their things moved. 

Sirius comes away from his thoughts to Remus chiding Harry about his studying, or lack thereof. 

“Love, leave him alone. He’s in the middle of a death tournament, which he  _ better  _ be preparing for.”

“I am!” Harry assures them, “Everyone’s been casting at me when I least expect it.”

“Casting at you?! With what?” 

Draco rolls his eyes, “We wouldn’t hurt him, we just need to make sure his reflexes are quick. No one knows what The Maze will be so we’re doing everything from jinxes to sneaking in objects during study times.”

“Is that why there was a banana peel next to my quill on Monday?”

“Yes, but you grabbed the right one and we were all very proud of you.”

Sirius hears a small smack and Draco’s affronted face is something they always smile at. They talk a bit more about school because Remus and Narcissa worry, Sirius pops in with a few things he remembers from Charms but at midnight he forces them both to go to bed. 

They exchange goodnights and other pleasantries, trying to maintain their happy faces. 

But the second the fire goes out Narcissa throws herself onto their couch, “I’m going to kill him.”

“Obviously, but how? Because if we go with poison I’m sure Severus can help out.” 

Sirius snorts, laying back on his side, “Poison is too quick, I say torture.”

“We’d have to use the dungeons and that’s too near Draco for my liking. Unless we do it here but you’ve just gotten all the floors redone, and I think Kreacher would have a heart attack if they got stained so soon.”

“We could use my cottage?” Remus offers. 

They mule it over for a second, but in the end they know that Dumbledore would know so it’s really not in their best interest unless they do it the long way. Narcissa seldom has the patience for the long way. 

After a while Kreacher brings them glasses of wine and a platter of grapes and cheeses. 

“Are you going to take Harry in after this year ends?” Narcissa asks. 

“Yes.”

Remus signs, “We’re still fighting with Dumbledore about it.”

“Fuck Dumbledore!” Sirius fumes, “See if I listen to a damn word he says anymore! That old ass rants and raves about keeping Harry safe and what does he do? Makes the boy participate in a death competition, nearly kills his friends and gets the King of the Black Sea pissed at him, let’s Harry and Draco be  _ friends  _ with a  _ Basilisk,  _ and that’s just this year!”

Narcissa is quiet again, and much like the last time that probably means she’s been planning something. 

“What is it?” Remus asks before he can. 

She only looks a little guilty this time. “Before Winky came to deliver Draco’s message I was planning on coming to see you anyways...when Lucius got home today he told me that he had spoken to Percy Weasley, you know, that ministry boy? He swears Fudge would collapse without him and Kingsley, but anyways…”

She’s stalling. For what he can’t imagine, and he’s getting this awful feeling in his gut, but then Narcissa smiles. 

“They’re getting you a trial.”

What?

“Lucius is going to get you pardoned, probably something more knowing him. They’ve apparently been working on it for a week, he didn’t want to tell me until it was certain, but Sirius you have a chance to be a free man again.”

Remus’s hand squeezes his, and for a moment he can’t speak. If he’s free, he can get custody of Harry. He can walk down Diagon Alley without a care in the world. He could bring back honor to the Black name. 

No more watching over his shoulder. No more waking up in the dead of night terrified that they would take him and Remus for helping him. 

He could have a life again. 

“If I kiss your husband how offended would you be?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s a smart move to make the gang meet at Hagrid’s Hut. Draco hates Ron for thinking of it, but the ginger knows them well, and he was absolutely right when he said that Draco and Hermione would study if presented with a table. Considering that they’re introducing Theo and Longbottom to their group today, studying the whole time might not be the best idea. 

“I just don’t understand why we have to go  _ ask  _ him.” Theo whines, absolutely oblivious to what he’s about to walk into. “I mean, if you don’t know we could probably ask Flint or Cassius. They like animals, they’re good at this shit. There is  _ no  _ reason for us to walk all the way down here.”

Millie rolls her eyes, tugging him along the beaten path. “There’s no better place to go for information than a Professor.”

“I dunno, the library is also a valid option.”

“Don’t make me hex you,” Draco sighs. 

Pansy and Blaise walk on either side of him, the three bringing up the back of their little group in case they  _ do  _ have to obliviate their friend. One can never be too careful. LuLu meows from his arms. She  _ hates  _ being outside, and Draco has no idea why she’s been so persistent about following him everywhere recently. Narcissa said she might be upset about him getting hurt, so he’s trying to be patient, but if he can’t keep carrying her every time they go outside. He can’t, no matter how much he loves holding her.

“He’s just upset that we took him away from Fletch-Fletchley.”

Theo turns around to glare at Blaise. 

“I’m right and you know it.”

“You’re annoying is what you are.”

“Hey!” Millie snaps, “No bickering at Hagrid's! You’ll make him sad!”

She can’t see all four of them giving her a look, but she can probably hear them giggling.

They come to a halt outside of Hagrid’s hut, where he knows the others are. All of them, which is a lot of people to fit into one tiny hut, but it’s better than being seen together in school and they can trust the giant, so Millie knocks twice. She shoves Theo through the door, Draco barely hears him say ‘what the fuck-’ and then they’re inside as well.

Hermione and Luna look up from their tea, Ron and the twins wave, Hagrid is frozen in place where he’s pouring tea for Ginny and Harry. 

Neville just looks downright terrified.

“You’re here!” Harry grins, standing up to greet them all, “You took so long we were getting worried.”

Draco gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, “Theo was being difficult.”

Theo, poor sod, stands shocked and wide-eyed in the corner. And since it’s best to get this over with Draco turns with Harry’s arm around his waist to accept tea from their professor.

“Alright, Longbottom, Theo, welcome to the Gang.”

“The gang?” Theo sputters, “You mean to tell me I was right about your crush on Potter?! I didn’t know you bothered with them all!”

Hermione rolls her eyes, coming to stand by them so Pansy has someone to lean on. “We’re all friends, actually. And Harry and Draco are dating.”

“Dating?!”

Merlin, if Neville faints this early on he’ll probably have a heart attack when he finds out the usual shit they get up to.

“How long has this been going on?!”

Hagrid surprises them all by answering first, “Second ‘ear, aye ‘arry? Draco here’s not as mean as you’d expect. He saved ol’ Buckbeak you know.”

“You?!” Fuck Theo’s going to choke, “You saved Buckbeak?!”

The Gang all shares a look, glancing between a half-furious half-confused Theo and a very green Neville. Ron stands up slowly.

“Is that an issue?” 

A weird silence stretches throughout the cabin, partly because seeing  _ Ron  _ try to intimidate someone is funny as hell and partly because Hagrid is looking back and forth between the gang and the newcomers like they’re all scared muts. 

Neville is the one who breaks it with a shaky laugh. “Sorry! Sorry! This is serious,” He smiles and by Merlin Draco didn’t even know the boy  _ could  _ smile. “But I’ve never seen you take control Ron, you’re like a little dragon flower.”

“Please,” Theo snorts, “I think you’re looking for a leaping toadstool.”

“Nah, wrong shade of red.”

Draco has no fucking clue what they’re talking about, but Blaise and Hermione are laughing so it’s probably fine. The two of them leap into a conversation about Blaise’s Death Garden, dragging Theo and Neville into their cult. If they walk away wearing strange robes and bowing to the greenhouses Draco will not be surprised. 

He is kind of shocked to find out Mille  _ does  _ have a question for Hagrid. The two crowd around Hagrid’s kitchen to debate stone cake recipes, which leads to a small bake off that Luna pokes her nose into. 

Personally, he prefers Hagrid’s cakes, but he also prefers living so he won’t be telling Mille that. 

Pansy and Ginny hide out in the corner. Draco doesn’t know why it’s more alarming than the influence she’s having on Luna. Probably because Ginny has the means and Pansy has the motive so whatever they’re plotting might just be the end of civilization. 

Though Fred and George are also candidates for world-ending. They have some weird chart spread across Hagrid’s table, Draco can see arithmancy and what looks like building blocks, but he’s too far away to figure anything else out. 

Ron assures him it’s nothing too concerning and if he’s calm enough to play exploding snap with Draco and Harry then life might keep on going. 

Eventually Hagrid decides it’s a bit too late for them to be out and guides them back up to dinner, but Draco and Hermione have different plans.

“Have you studied for Ancient Studies yet?”

Draco likes the glint in her eyes. He likes it a lot.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited for next chapter because it's finally finals and the final task omg are y'all excited? I am :)


	22. Finally, a Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Disgusting, now help us plan your boyfriend’s birthday party.”

If he’s learned anything in the last week it’s that sleep is important and Narcissa is just as terrifying as Hermione.

That last part Harry kinda guessed, but thinking and seeing are two very different things. For instance, he logically knows that since Narcissa is Draco’s mother, it’s completely natural for her to do the weird hair-rising-when-upset thing, but seeing it was a completely different, and bone-chilling, experience.

The first part he also knows, but just because it’s exam week doesn’t mean he has to start going to bed early. No, instead he, and the rest of his sadistic friends, stay up into the night studying. 

All that studying, all those hours watching Hermione’s hair get steadily bushier, reading his notes to Geia, playing with LuLu while Draco and Hermione quiz each other. All of that for him not to remember a single Godric forsaken test.

Harry knows he took them all, obviously he took them. He hopes he took them at least. He remembers going to each classroom  _ for  _ the exam, but he couldn’t tell you a single thing covered. Not a single question, much less an answer, Godric, he doesn’t even remember what he did for his Transfiguration project, and he knows Draco and Hermione are talking about the Ancient Studies test they all  _ literally  _ just took, the last test of the year, but to him it just sounds like Hermione finally got around to learning French.

“No,” Draco’s telling her as he idly plays with Harry’s hair, “I think we’re both right, I mean, Curse Breakers have long determined that the Library of Alexandria isn’t actually gone, it’s just heavily-”

“-warded! Exactly! And since the wards are there in the first place, it must have been some sort of magical library! We all know how magic thrived in Egypt, Sphynx are still there to this day-”

“Yes! Also, it was literally  _ dedicated to the muses,  _ who we all know were witches.”

Harry tunes them out, fully content to lean on Draco’s shoulder and focus on long fingers carding through his curls.

Or he is until he hears the door open and Theo’s annoying voice rings throughout the room.

“Merlin, are you always this disgustingly cute?”

“Yes.” Ron answers before Harry can even open his eyes. 

He does open his eyes though, taking a moment to wonder why he’s always a little annoyed by Theo’s presence before saying, “We’ve only been dating for a week.”

“Yeah!” Draco and Hermione nod, but Pansy, who was napping on a pile of pillows by the fire just sighs. “You started dating in December, idiots.”

“December isn’t real anymore.”

“Wait.” Theo shakes his hands, “You’ve only been together for six months?!”

Draco yawns, “Five, technically. June has only just begun.”

“Which reminds me,” Pansy begins, gently leaving Luna to nap by herself. She slaunters over to their peaceful little couch, opening her mouth for something horrendous, he’s sure.

A slamming of the door cuts her off.

“You get back here you-you-”

“You what?! I’m perfectly right and you know it!”

Harry twists in his seat to see Neville pointing an angry finger at Blaise’s chest. Blaise, to Harry’s amusement, doesn’t seem the least bit threatened. 

“You are  _ not  _ right! That is  _ not  _ the proper way to handle a mandrake!”

Blaise curls his lip into a sneer, “No,  _ you  _ think it’s not the proper way to handle a mandrake, but it’s  _ effective  _ and  _ entirely more practical!” _

“It’s  _ abusive  _ and  _ cruel!” _

“It’s a plant!”

Neville gasps, hand coming up to clutch at his chest, “How can you say that?!  _ It has a mouth!” _

Blaise laughs at him, an actual genuine laugh, and Harry’s not sure if he should interfere or watch on. Theo seems to make the decision that interfering is necessary, walking over to them with a wary expression.

“Okay, okay, what happened? Did someone hurt Martha?”

“No,” Neville sniffs, “He hurt Burt.”

“I did not hurt Burt!”

_ “You hurt Burt?!” _

“No!” Blaise glares at them both, “I didn’t  _ hurt  _ anything! I’ll have you know that my little baby Alice is and will continue to be  _ perfect!  _ Neville is just upset that I didn’t treat Burt the way he does! I treated him fairly, just like I do to Alice, and once again,  _ Alice is perfect!” _

No one else in the room has the faintest clue what they’re on about, except for Hermione who snorts. 

“Did you three really name your mandrakes?”

“Yes?” All three of them look at her, “Did you not?”

Neville waves them back to the topic after sending a disappointed look to Hermione, “Don’t think naming your plant makes what you did any better!”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!”

“What did you do?” Theo glares. Harry can’t tell if they’re upset or not, it’s really rather amusing. 

“He  _ changed Burt’s soil early!” _

Theo blinks twice, “You  _ what?!  _ Blaise! You know how easily their roots get shocked! What were you thinking?! That was our end of the year project! What if you killed them?! I wanted to take them home!”

“I didn’t! Listen, if you’d shut up a second I’ll tell you why I did it! Burt was  _ shivering!  _ Okay?! His roots weren’t getting enough oxygen, he was developing a nasty case of magical root-rot  _ and  _ he wasn’t getting enough sunlight! Poor lad didn’t even cry when I took him out!”

“His leaves looked fine! And I’ll have you know if you would’ve listened to me at the beginning of the year-”

“We weren’t friends then!”

Theo shakes his head, “Both of you shut up! Are they still alive?”

Blaise and Neville both nod, Harry almost feels like he’s watching some sort of sitcom, though Aunt Petunia doesn’t watch enough of them to be sure.

Pansy, thank Godric, decides that's the perfect time to break up their little conversation, loudly clearing her throat and glaring their way.  _ “As I was saying,  _ we need to discuss your birthday.”

Harry sits up just enough to see Draco’s frown.

“Why?”

“Because it’s four days away and I refuse to not celebrate it.”

“Come off it,” Draco sighs, settling down on Harry’s lap, long blonde hair across his thighs. Harry almost lets his tired eyes stay focused on them, but Draco’s still talking. “We haven’t celebrated it since first year, it’s rather pointless now.”

“Since first year?!” A multitude of people chorus. They’re loud enough to wake up Luna  _ and  _ Ginny.

“Yes? And what of it?”

Harry lightly smacks his head before playing with the soft locks. So soft...softer than LuLu and  _ that  _ is impressive.

“What of it?!” Harry yawns, “It’s your birthday!”

“I’ve already said I refuse to ignore it, and we have nothing to keep us from celebrating it. Exams are over, and we have a full two weeks to prepare Harry for the final task after.

“Reminder that Harry could die in that final task.”

“That’s all the more reason to celebrate!” Hermione protests. 

Draco glares at her before giving in and shutting his eyes. He’s had a long week too, definitely worse than Harry’s. 

Firstly, he was  _ terrified  _ of giving his presentation, absolutely  _ horrified  _ at the mere thought that McGonagall might not like it. She did, of course. Harry remembers her bragging about it before the exam, but that’s only because she said ‘Draco Malfoy’ and Harry tends to remember the important things. Something about her being thoroughly impressed, something about him being innovative. Harry remembers bursting with pride during her rant, but that’s about it. 

He also knows Draco studies just as much as Hermione. He can pretend to be nonchalant all he wants, but it doesn’t fool any of them. Honestly, Harry’s not sure why he bothers hiding it, everyone within a mile radius can see the bags under his eyes during finals week. They make him look all soft and sweet, lessen the sharpness of his features, plus it means that Draco is tired and a tired Draco is a cuddly Draco.

Harry  _ loves  _ a Cuddly Draco. 

Cuddly Draco is currently falling asleep on his lap, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest warm.

“-you even listening to me? Harry James Potter, get your eyes off your boyfriend and pay attention!”

Harry looks up to see the entire room glaring in the fondest way possible. Somehow the twins and Millie have appeared, though he doesn’t recall them coming in. Hermione stands with her arms crossed, similar to Pansy’s exasperated expression. 

“Sorry…”

Theo shakes his head, but it’s fond and Harry actually isn’t annoyed by it, “Disgusting, now help us plan your boyfriend’s birthday party.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco hates all of them. 

Every last one of his friends are the worst, absolute  _ meances,  _ an irritation compared only to his boyfriend, and by Merlin they know how to make him feel warm on the inside.

It’s all very annoying, but Pansy and Hermione have taken charge so he knows better than to interfere, which sucks, because they’re all being  _ secretive  _ for  _ no reason.  _ He hates not knowing what’s happening, but Pansy told him that it was Karma, so he’s just been keeping his mouth shut. 

He can’t even get anything out of  _ Harry,  _ which is  _ insane _ because Harry is probably the worst liar he’s ever met! Luna just smiles whenever he asks her anything, and the one time he tried to bribe Blaise the fucker went and told Pansy on him. There’s really no way to win this, which is why he and LuLu are spending the day before his birthday in the hospital wings with Poppy.

“Stir it for a minute longer, then I want you to come talk with me.”

Draco raises an eyebrow and shares a look with LuLu, who yawns at him. She’s gotten so big over the year, and yet she still fits perfectly on his chest when they cuddle. She is also very loud and  _ very  _ upset at her lack of affection. Draco pets her as he stirs, carrying her over to Poppy’s desk even though he swore he’d stop carrying her everywhere.

“Yes?”

Poppy offers him a biscuit, he wonders if her and McGonagall shop at the same places, and then waves some tea over for them. 

“I understand your birthday is tomorrow.”

Draco groans. “Not you too!” He points a finger at her, “And I read in a book last year that using your patients records to gather their personal information is highly illegal!”

“I didn’t get it from your records, your godfather told me.”

Okay, that bit he wasn’t expecting. LuLu sits up fully, trying to take a bite of his cracker. 

“Severus told you?”

“Yes.”

Draco doesn’t like the sly look in her eye. “Why did he tell you?”

“Because we found it interesting that you’ll be fifteen, which is a year closer to sixteen, you know.”

He has no idea where she’s going with this, but she’s usually as straightforward as his mother, he doesn’t like the new development.

“Yes, I am aware of how years work. Thank you, professor, are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine you brat,” Poppy smiles. “I know it’s uncommon for fifth years to act as an aid, but if you were interested I would like to have you be mine.”

Draco’s hand stops petting LuLu, she’s very upset about it. He wouldn’t hate being her aid, hell he’s been spending Saturday mornings with her since the Yule Ball, plus the more he learns about medicine now the more use he can be when Harry inevitably gets hurt. Maybe the next time Lucius gets himself cursed they won’t have to kill him for it, maybe Draco could help. 

He could  _ help.  _

“How do you become an aid for a hospital? You're not teaching a class are you?”

Poppy scoffs like he personally offended her, “Merlin, no. I’d rather deal with a Basilisk again then keep up with that many papers. No, no. If you choose, I can teach you more when we’re not busy. It would allow me to do some cleaning I keep having to put off year after year, and, if you’re interested, it would put you in a better position to understand what you’d be getting yourself into should you choose this career.”

Merlin, he asks for one healing year so he can do a project and suddenly everyone is convinced that he’s going to become a healer. Not that it’s a bad idea, but he was hoping for something like surviving his teenage years and becoming an Unspeakable who just so happens to know every healing spell in the books. 

“You don’t have to answer now, of course, the term isn’t over for a few more weeks, and you have the summer to ponder over it. I just wanted you to be aware of your options.”

LuLu meows at him, Draco kisses her forehead and asks something he’s been needing to know for the longest time.

“Professor, what house were you in?”

“Nevermind that, here, a birthday present.”

The book appears out of thin air,  _ The Annual Wizard’s Medical Guide.  _ Draco flips through the table of contents, growing more and more excited. There are potions, salves, meditations, experiments, an entire thirty pages dedicated to discoveries. 

“I thought you might like it, consider it a thank you for all the hard work you’ve done this year.”

He’s not foaming at the mouth to read it, but his leg is trying to shake out of excitement, so he’s close. He’s also willing to bet that Poppy is a Slytherin.

His house always gives the nicest gifts.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The next day Draco wakes up early to have tea with Severus, but unbeknownst to him, Severus has other plans. When Draco steps into Snape’s room, he is  _ not  _ in his pjs like he usually is for their morning teas, but in a sweater and slacks, hair pulled into a  _ ponytail  _ of all things. 

Ellios really is a good influence for him.

Severus also doesn’t tell him where they’re going. He just holds out his arm for Draco to take, and then he steps into his fireplace.

They come stumbling out into his mother’s favorite living room, the one with the wall length windows facing the gardens, and Draco tumbles right into a set of arms he’ll always miss.

“Mum!”

“Darling!”

Narcissa releases him to kiss his forehead, then brushes a bit of his hair back. “Look at you! My darling is already fifteen!”

“Dear heavens, are you sure? He was only ten yesterday.”

Draco looks to the french doors to see his dad. His  _ dad.  _ Not Lucius, the abuser, or Lucius, the cursed man, not Lucius the weak helpless victim. Just dad, dressed in sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Holding a cup of coffee, wearing house slippers. 

His skin has lost the grey tint that Draco had grown used to, gone are the eye bags, the limp, the messy unkempt hair. 

Draco can’t remember the last time he saw his father so relaxed. For a moment he’s almost tempted to run and hug him. 

Almost. 

“Sirius and Remus would’ve been here, but the full moon is this week.”

“Sirius and Remus were going to come to celebrate my birthday?”

Snape scoffs behind him, all warm and cosy in his sweater. “Your mother wanted to throw a party today. A complete one, with all of your friends- even the Weasleys.”

“I  _ still  _ want to throw a party,” Narcissa huffs. She crosses her arms, “The only reason I’m pacified is because of Pansy and that Hermione child, they’ve done some remarkable work you know.”

No, no Draco does not know. But apparently his parents  _ and  _ his godfather do know. Which he’s totally not pissed about. Not at all.

“Oh stop making such a face, we only have until three. Now come with us, the elves made your favorite breakfast.”

Sicily is waiting for them in the kitchen, as the dining room is a bit too impersonal for his liking and his mother knows it. She bows and wishes him a ‘happy birthday’ and then breakfast is served.

Or the plates are put out and the buffet is revealed.

They really  _ did  _ make everything.

Apples, strawberries, bananas, muffins, eggs, bacon, spinach, quiches, biscuits, yogurts, parfaits, custards, any and every breakfast food he’s ever commented on liking is spread across their countertops.

Ron would fucking love this.

Draco entertains the thought of his friends at his home as they eat and the adults rant about Moody and the competition.

He wonders if they would like the gardens. Theo, Blaise, and Neville would have the best time of their lives, Blaise would particularly be interested in how well the weeping irises have grown. 

Pansy always loved the ballroom, but she’d also be interested in the painting corner that he never got around to showing her. Ron’s favorite place would be the kitchen and the game room, Draco can just vaguely see him and Lucius battling over wizard’s chess. 

Luna prefers the photo galleries, but she always spent a lot of time in the astronomy tower if he remembers correctly. Would she still go there?

He can see Hermione being fascinated over all of it, though she’d squeal if she ever saw the library. 

The twins and Millie would adore all the secret passages and hidden rooms. Draco’s honestly not really sure what’s in them anymore, but he’s sure they’d love to find out. 

And Harry….would Harry like any of it? The broom station, surely. The pools maybe? What about the-

“Dragon, love, are you ready for presents?”

Draco shakes himself out of his fantasy, nodding and smiling at his mother. 

He’s not quite sure what the hell he’s going to do with all the clothing his mother keeps getting him. He’ll definitely have to clean out his closet this summer, his whole room really. Snape’s gotten him more potions supplies, which Sisily so kindly puts in the brewery. 

Lucius hesitates a bit before handing him a small black box. 

“It’s nothing like what your mother got you, but I think it’s time you have it.”

The watch is old, probably eighteenth century. Encased in silver spines that branch out like a pentagram made of a serpent, all in the center of a woman’s bosom. It’s beautiful, intricate, and the longer that Draco looks at it, the more he realizes what it is.

“Open it.” Lucius whispers.

Draco slides it around his wrist, opening the silver hutch. Considering the links to his family, he’s not at all surprised when he sees the little names above the time. All three of them, Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco are on the cursive  _ ‘home’. _ Next to home is  _ ‘work’ _ , then  _ ‘friends _ ’,  _ ‘enemies’ _ , and finally  _ ‘danger’.  _ He’s half tempted to ask why ‘danger’ is there, but considering their history he’s really not that surprised. 

“Thank you.” Draco says. He’s apparently accidentally interrupted whatever Lucius was saying, but his father just smiles at him and for a moment everything is okay.

It’s nice, actually. Warm, comfortable,  _ happy.  _ It’s almost enough.

Almost.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Blaise instructs him to change into comfort clothes, and since his friend is in sweat pants and a light sweater, Draco is determined to do the same.

He walks into his room and freezes on the spot.

Dobby and Winky stand dead center, one of them smiling bright and the other wringing her hands. Naturally, he’s suspicious.

“Master Draco!” Dobby greets, “Dobby and Winky are wishing to you to have the happiest of birthdays, sir!”

“Yes, yes. Winky and Dobby have been preparing a small gift for you, sir.”

Draco forces himself not to raise an eyebrow, but he’s not quite sure what to do here. He’s never gotten a gift from a house elf before.

He’s not disappointed.

Winky hands over a little green sweater. Clearly made with her own magic, Draco can actually see the fine threads in it, but it’s so soft that he can’t bring himself to care.

“Thank you.” He says to them both, smiling so they know he means it. 

From there Winky seems to calm down a bit, grinning back and handing over the ‘comfort clothes’ Pansy picked out. He’s happy to see sweats and his favorite lay-around shirt that’s usually reserved for the days he spends holed up in his room studying. She hands him a box of sweets from Sirius and a moon chart from Remus.

Then Blaise takes him by the arm and drags him to the Gang’s Room. Well, Draco thinks they’re going to the Gang’s Room, and then they turn a few unfamiliar corners and end up on the seventh floor, right next to the Barnabas the Barmy.

“Blaise-bear, I don’t think we’re in the right place.”

“Just trust me.”

Blaise walks past the same spot three times. Draco’s about to call him crazy, or make a joke about how much alcohol he’s consumed, but then a door appears and he’s dragging Draco into a pitch black room.

For a moment he’s sure this is it.

He’s finally pissed Blasie off to the point of murder. He is going to get cursed, or at least killed. No one will ever find him, and Pansy can easily be sworn to secrecy. 

And then someone whispers  _ lumos  _ and Draco blinks to see  _ everyone  _ shouting Happy Birthday at him.

He’s not really sure what the fuck is happening, but Pansy rushes forward to throw her arms around his neck. “Happy Birthday!”

“What is this?” He whispers in her ear.

“A party.” Is all she whispers back.

Whatever room they’re in is  _ stunning.  _ A giant wooden fireplace springs to life, lighting the room along with the glowing balls of pure magic that hang in mid-air. And while he can tell that the floor is a nice mahogany, there are several soft-looking rugs, floor-pillows thrown about the room, several couches and chairs, and a table full of food.

Draco’s favorite part is either the pile of presents or the flowing fountain that he just  _ knows  _ is all the alcohol he and Blaise have been saving. 

Pansy drags him around the room, first to Cedric and Cho who smile and congratulate him. 

“I’m just happy you’ve stopped denying things.”

Draco glares at them both. “It’s a  _ secret.  _ Okay? No one knows about this but us, got it?”

“Well,” Krum strides up to them. He has no idea why the man is here, they’re not friends but he  _ is  _ Hermione’s boyfriend, and friends with Harry, Fleur, and Cedric so he doesn’t really mind. “We are good at keeping secrets, and might I wish you a glorious day of birth.”

Pansy lets them chat for a few minutes before dragging him over to the fountain where Blaise, Theo, and Neville are.

“She promised us we’d be second.” Blaise explains, handing over a drink that is definitely sparkling wine, “Happy Birthday, dumbass. I’m glad you managed to make it for another year.”

“Really, Blaise, you warm my heart.”

“Only the best for my darling nuisance.”

“Truly, words of love.”

Theo snorts. “I’ve heard horror stories, it really is impressive that you’ve lasted this long.”

“Really!” Neville adds, “I heard you faced a werewolf! I’m glad you didn’t die, though, I mean um-well, Happy Birthday Draco.”

Blaise and Theo look physically pained by their Gryffindor plant friend, but Theo smoothes it over quickly, promising him something interesting for his present. It doesn’t bode well, but Pansy drags him away before he can ask questions. 

They head to Fleur, Luna, and Ginny next. 

“Darling! You are old now!” Fleur kisses his cheek.

Luna, thankfully, just smiles. “Do you like the lights? I was told not to go overboard, but Pansy wanted something pretty.”

“They’re beautiful, but you’ve always been good at light magic.” Draco replies, poking her right on the nose. 

Ginny rolls her eyes, “I swear you’re an old man at heart.”

“Shut up.”

“She is right, you are closer to becoming Grandfather Malfoy.”

“You’re older than I am!” 

Fleur just shrugs, “I am content in my old age.”

“Yeah, be more like your cousin, Draco.”

Draco looks between Luna and Fleur, not sure of which one he should imitate, but Pansy just laughs and drags him to the next group of people. The twins and Mille.

“Happy Birthday!” Millie hugs him, “Let me know if you like the cake! I was told you liked lemon, but I was unsure of the icing.”

“You made it?”

Fred and George scoff, each throwing an arm over his shoulder.

“Made it?”

“She  _ crafted  _ it!”

“It’s a work of art, mate.”

“For your special day, of course.”

Draco rolls his eyes at them, but thanks them anyways. He even lets the twins ruffle his hair before Pansy nags them, fixes it, and then drags him to the people he’s been waiting for.

Ron and Hermione let Harry approach him first.

They share a kiss softer than LuLu, which is funny because LuLu meows from Harry’s arms as they pull apart.

“Happy Birthday, beautiful.” Harry whispers.

His eyes are so green. So pretty and bright, so warming. Like a little hug right around his heart, completely with a white Knealze demanding to be held.

Draco accepts LuLu. He tries not to squeal when she nuzzles his heart, but Hermione catches him smiling anyways.

“Have you enjoyed the day so far?” She asks, giving him a small peck on the cheek. Ron side hugs him, petting LuLu and grabbing Draco’s drink before it can spill.

Draco tells them about his morning, shows them his new watch.

“Hey! That’s like the clock we have at home! But ours says ‘mortal peril’ instead of ‘danger’.” Ron says. He calls for his family to come look right as Draco asks why in the hell the  _ Weasleys  _ have a ‘mortal peril’ setting.

“Are you talking about the family clock?” Ginny asks as she wanders over. 

“Yes, please, someone tell me why you lot need such a drastic setting.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Fred laughs right as George says, “I told mum it was overdramatic.”

Ron just shrugs, “I kinda get it. I mean, her and dad fought in the first war. Charlie works with dragons, Bill is a Curse Breaker, Percy is in politics, and she knows who the four of us are as people.”

“What on  _ earth  _ does that mean Ronald?” 

“Come on, guys.” Ron points to his little sister, “Cursed by Riddle first year,” He points to his brothers, “Family trouble makers,” Finally, he points to himself, “Best friends with Harry Potter.”

“Hey!” Harry slaps his arm. “I never  _ mean  _ to put you in mortal peril!”

“No, but you can’t deny that it always happens. She wants to add you in, but she’s worried that you’d constantly be around that-hey! Hermione! I wasn’t saying anything  _ bad-” _

Hermione hands him a drink to shut him up.

Eventually, after an hour of chit-chat, Pansy decides presents are in order.

Cedric and Cho get him new potions vials. Krum gives him a Romanian medical book. Theo hands him a sparkly see-through shirt. The twins got him a new ‘concept’ from their shop. He’s not sure what it does yet, but he fully intends to make sure they’re present when he finds out. Ginny and Ron each get him framed pictures of the group that he doesn’t remember being taken. Maybe they bribed Winky, that or they’re much sneakier than he gives them credit for. 

Pansy and Blaise get him new fancy quills and a blanket to replace the one he  _ knows  _ one of them stole. Neville gives him an awkward conversation about medical plants, in which he stammers a lot and hands over a book before explaining a quarter of it’s continents. Fleur presents him a silky navy robe, Luna has a beautiful silver stash to go with it, and matching slippers that he  _ loves.  _

Millie’s cake is more than enough of a present, but she gives him a little silver trinket box too. Hermione hands him a little silver snake that appears to connect to something, though he has no idea what.

Lastly, Harry pulls him to the side.

“Okay, so. I didn’t know what to get you, and you know I’d get you anything, but I was kind of on a time crunch, and that’s not an excuse, I just. Well, I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

Like he could ever dislike something from such a sweet idiot. Harry hands him a silver box with shaking hands. It’s much larger than he expected, nearly the size of his lower body. He takes a few guesses at what it might be, but he’s not expecting the giant white snake stuffie that he pulls out.

“I know you like cuddling, and just in case we don’t see each other over the break, I wanted to give you this and if you don’t like it-”

Draco rubs his hands over the soft fabric, gives it a squeeze just to test how huggable it really is. Then he pulls Harry forward by the shirt and kisses him. “I love it.”

“Thank Godric.”

“Hey!” Pansy calls, “You can’t make out all night! I have a plan!”

Her plans includes a drinking game of exploding snap that lasts for three hours. Krum, Cedric, and Cho eventually filter out. Fleur’s the next to leave, and since it’s the Gang that everyone knows and loves, Pansy switches it up to another fabulous game of ‘never have I ever.”

“Never have I ever worn green.” Ron hiccups, high fiving the rest of his family who are the only ones that don’t take a sip.

“Dirty, Ron.” Neville slurs, “Very Dirty. Never have I ever had parents.”

It’s inappropriate to laugh, but Harry, who’s drank the last seven times, seems  _ delighted.  _ He roars with laughter, reaching across the circle to shake hands with Neville.

“That’s not fair!” Theo groans, “You can’t use dead parents to avoid drinking!”

“Yeah!” Blaise nods, “That’s like, like number one reason  _ to  _ drink!”

Neville just shrugs, refilling their cups before they take a sip.

“Wait!” Hermione giggles. It’s her turn, Draco’s kinda interested to know what she’ll say. “Wait, before we get too drunk, I want to give Draco the rest of his present.”

“There’s more of Draco’s Presents?” Draco asks. He’s not quite sober, but he’s far from being drunk like the rest of them.

“Well, kinda.”

Kinda? 

Hermione reaches into her tiny bag, Pansy must have taught her that stupid expansion charm she always uses, and pulls out these weird boxy looking things.

“You got him a cell phone?!” Harry gasps, “Those are expensive! Your parents really  _ are  _ dentists, huh?”

Hermione scowls at him, “They’re not  _ cell phones.  _ They’re  _ like  _ cell phones.”

She tosses them each one of the boxy squares, and then proceeds to explain.

“I figured we needed something to keep in touch, plus, this way when one of us inevitably gets into trouble again, we can call each other for help. It took some time, of course, but I made it to where they function through magic instead of cell towers. Not all that tricky, did you know there are books on this type of thing? Your father would  _ love  _ it, Ron, you’ll simply  _ have  _ to show him.”

Draco pokes at his, “But what does it do?”

Hermione smiles, holding her own up like a trophy and says ‘phone Draco’. The box in his hand makes a strange ringing noise, and there are two buttons, one red and one green, and because green usually means bad, like the Killing curse, Draco presses the red one and the ringing stops.

“No! Draco, you press the green one! Try again.”

She ‘dials’ him once more, and he warily presses the green button. And then, he’d call it magic if he wasn’t a wizard, Hermione is talking through the little box.

“Holy shit! Wait! I can see your eyes!” 

Draco glares through the little glass bit to see Hermione and some of the room around them.

“Yep! I put two way mirrors on them all. It was my Transfiguration project, but I made more, because, well.” She gestures to the room, “We seem to grow a bit every few months.”

They all laugh at that, spending some time with the weird things Hermione and Harry call ‘phones’. 

But, eventually the fun of it wears off and they’re not sure how late it is, so Pansy summons some blankets and Blaise summons a book to watch.

They pile around, Harry and LuLu snuggle close to him.

It’s the best birthday he’s had in a while. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, I had a person comment recently on chapter 10 that my fic is a lot like the wonderful ShanaStoryteller's Survival is a Talent, and while I disagree, I can see the similarities, so I wanted to tell everyone that I would never insult her like that. I started reading her fic midway through writing Prisoner of a Father, but at that point I had already planned out my fics through the entirety of the Harry Potter books series. She is a wonderful author and I love her works and writing, and as a writer I would hate it if someone did that to me, so I would never do it to anyone else.   
> I understand that there are a lot of similarities, but personally, there are a lot of similarities with most drarry fics. These include Harry and dragons, Draco and Hermione being study budies, Krum and Hermione dating, Pansy being That Bitch, saving the basilisk, the list goes on. I view ShanaStoryTeller's fic as a soulmate au, and that is not what my fic is. My fic is the result of me watching the HP movies, thinking 'draco definitely sent dobby', and also a paper on world mythology and lore that I wrote last semester.   
> I'm sorry if I offended anyone, especially ShanaStoryteller, or if people have had similar thoughts and just haven't commented, but I wanted to clarify that NO I am not basing my fic off of hers and I would never aim to hurt a writer like that.  
> Anyways, I went off on a tangent while I was writing this because I wanted Draco to finally have a birthday that's actually celebrated, so think of this as a filler episode before another main plot point. See you next Sunday!


	23. The Final Task part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never in his entire life has he seen Dumbledore nod so quickly.

The morning of the final task Draco finds himself hiding in a classroom by the door to the quidditch field. He’s technically supposed to be at breakfast, but Harry has to be at the field by 11 and food doesn’t really seem that important to him right now. 

He checks his watch, figuring he has about one minute before his boyfriend scurries by. 

Sure enough, the familiar footsteps approach and Draco sticks a hand out from behind his door, grabs Harry by the back of his robes, and tugs him inside. 

Harry has his wand out and at Draco’s throat quick enough that he actually smiles, and yes, Draco technically has the upper hand because Harry  _ is  _ the one against the wall, but his boyfriend’s bat bogey hex is nearly as good as Ginny’s. 

“Draco!” Harry scolds, “Don’t  _ do that!  _ What if I hexed you?!”

“Then I’d have a black eye and a prepared boyfriend.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but leans forward for a short kiss. Draco releases his hold, letting his hands come down to squeeze Harry’s. 

“I’m going to be okay, you know. I’ve dealt with a Basilisk, Dragons, and Merepeople. A maze can’t be  _ that  _ difficult.”

Draco lets his head rest on Harry’s left shoulder. “You’ve said that every time and every time we’re worried that you won’t make it back.”

“But I always do, right? Come on, I’m only fourteen. I can’t die until I’ve taken my NEWTs. Hermione would kill me otherwise, and I wouldn’t put it past your mother to bring me back just to yell at me for being reckless.”

“Mum doesn’t do necromancy. She’s more the reason why people have to do necromancy.”

Harry chuckles but pulls him close and Draco savors the feeling. It’s warm here, safe even. The thought scares him a little, he’s only fifteen, he shouldn’t be this emotionally attached to someone. 

He hates this. The whole Triwizard Tournament has been nothing but a pain in his ass. When Harry’s alone out there, Draco can’t protect him. Draco is  _ meant  _ to protect him. He literally got pulled into  _ everything  _ because he was supposed to protect Harry. How the hell is he supposed to be okay with this? 

They pull away, and Draco’s about to launch into a lecture about how Harry  _ better  _ be safe, but then the door opens and they launch apart.

“Oh calm down, it’s just us.”

Blaise, Pansy, Hermione and Ron all trickle into the room. It’s quiet for a moment, and then Hermione launches herself at Harry for a hug.

“You’ll be safe won’t you? Statistically speaking, the final task is usually the one where people die.”

“Way to instill confidence, Herm.” Blaise drawls, but he leans forward to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Seriously, Potter, if you’re not with us on the train I’ll be very cross.”

“And you wouldn’t want a Slytherin cross with you,” Pansy adds, slinging her arm around Harry’s free shoulder, “I’ve heard it’s rather terrifying.”

“I’ll be safe, I swear.” Harry sighs. He looks like a child reassuring his parents. 

All four of them, Draco included, take a step back so Ron can come forward. He places his hands on Harry’s shoulder and looks him dead in the eyes.

“No funny business. You get in and don’t die. Got it?”

“Yes. No dicking around, and no dying.”

Ron gives him a hard look and then pulls him in for a hug. It’s a little funny to see, because Harry is by no means short, but Ron is taller than Draco these days, so Harry’s head is nearly obstructed by the boy’s shoulder.

“After this, when we go home I mean, mum is going to get you early from the Dursleys. She wants us to help her bake mince pies, you know?”

Harry nods, “Then I have to be there to help.”

“Yeah…” Ron releases him. “You have to be there.”

They’re all quiet again, which is quite over dramatic, so after a moment Draco steps forward.

“I’ve got something for you.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his old pocket watch.

“It has medical salves in it, click this button once for major wounds, press it ten times for minor wounds. Got it? If, on a scale of one-to-ten it feels like a seven, click it three times. Okay?”

Harry nods like he gets it, so Draco hands the watch over.

It eases some of the worry in his chest.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He’s surprised that the group let them go as fast as they did, but Harry was already fifteen minutes late, and the later he is the worse it is for everyone else.

Because he’s so late, he has to run to the pitch and because he’s so worried about time, and also running as fast as he can, he accidentally runs smack into a large man with red hair.

“I am  _ so  _ sorry-”

“Harry!”

Bill Weasley picks him up in a hug, twirling him around once before putting him on the ground and patting his head.

“Bill!” Harry grins, “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Egypt?”

“I was, but Dumbledore asked me to be the curse-breaker for the final round. I’ll be right on the sidelines with Madam-oh! Here, the family’s all a bit worried so I made you this.”

He fishes into his pocket and pulls out a black log-shaped stone on a string.

“It’s Black Tourmaline, the string has a protection spell on it so it should ensure, you know, your general safety.”

Harry takes the stone necklace and slips it around his neck. It hangs right next to the locket Draco gave him and something about it just feels  _ right.  _

“Thank you,” He says as they continue their way to the fields.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve done a lot for us, mum was telling me that she couldn’t really imagine a summer without you and the boys bickering about Quidditch, even dad is a little concerned. They’re all coming to support you today. Even Percy.”

“Percy’s coming?! I thought he only worked now.”

Bill sighs, “He does. Practically lives at the ministry, but you forget that you’re family, Harry. Weasleys are  _ very  _ protective of their family. He forced the minister to come so he could be here today.”

“I thought he was an assistant for Mr. Crouch?”

“He’s supposed to be, but Crouch is an assistant to the Minister, and since he’s been gone for so long Percy has just been acting as the unofficial Minister’s assistant.”

Harry doesn’t get it at all, he has tons of questions. Like where did Mr. Crouch go? Why isn’t he doing his job? Just how stressed out  _ is  _ Percy now? But Bill steers the conversation back to Egypt and before he knows it he’s in the Champion’s Tent, getting ready with the others.

Nearly all of them are dressed, so Harry has to rush to get changed. For no reason, of course, because they still have thirty minutes by the time he’s done.

He comes out to the waiting area, right into an incredibly somber mood. Harry’s never really been the best in these types of situations, so he takes a seat near Fleur, only a little surprised when she takes hold of his hand.

“I am happy to have met you all, and I understand that this is supposed to be a competition, but it feels wrong to fight against friends.”

“It  _ is  _ wrong to fight against friends.” Cedric says. “I won’t do it. If one of you needs help, I swear I’ll be there.”

Krum nods, “Yes. We enter the maze as brothers-in-arms and we leave the same.”

It’s really touching, like Harry has never felt more supported, but he’s very confused.

“Krum...what exactly is a brother-in-arms?”

The boy blinks at him and then smiles softly. Harry can definitely see why Hermione is so attracted to him. “It is a term for those who fight together, like soldiers in a war. But it’s importance comes from the bond that is shared. In a war, Harry, people find solace in those who share experiences. Soldiers watch their fellow brethren die. They see each at their worst, they see the fear in their eyes as they face Death, when their loved ones are threatened. They are with each other through the most horrible occurrences, and when the war is over, they turn to each other for peace. They understand that war is pointless, yet they fight anyways. Not for themselves, but for those who are in the trenches with them. To become a brother-in-arms is a high honor where I am from, and I extend the offer to you all.” 

He takes a breath, looking at the three other champions, “You all have lives to be lived, fulfillments that have yet to be discovered. I cannot sit idly and worry for myself knowing the holes that would be left if one of you did not make it out of the maze. When I fight today, I will not fight for myself, but for all of you.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Cedric nods, “People often see Hufflepuffs as weak, but we are fiercely loyal to our friends. And if I am lucky enough to call the three great wizards in the room my friends, then they are lucky enough to have my protection.”

Fleur stands, pacing around the room.

“When I came here, I knew I would see my family. My precious Draco and my darling Luna...but I did not expect to come across souls like yours. You,” She looks to Krum, “Who would be proud of my Veela instincts with me. You,” She turns to Cedric, “Who would help me ensure my family’s happiness all because I asked you to. And you,” She smiles at Harry, “Who would save mine and my sister’s life...I am honored to stand in the same room, to fight  _ with  _ you, never against you.”

Since everyone else made a speech, Harry kinda feels compelled to. But what would he say? Don’t die? Be careful? He’s only ever felt this sense of comradery with Ron and Hermione. 

Fortunately, his mouth apparently  _ does  _ know what to say.

“I first heard about magic from a shitty card-trick guy outside one of the stores my aunt shops at. She came home ranting about how ‘unseemly’ it was, but since discovering how very real it is, I’ve learned a couple of things. Magic is great and all, but it’s the people behind the spells that make it wonderful. Each of you is so powerful and great I can’t begin to describe how lucky I feel to know you. I hope to keep knowing you, and if we’re all fighting for each other, I think I see a celebratory dinner in our near future. With all of us at the same table, laughing about how horrible it’s all been.”

“Trelawney is finally making sense to you then.”

“Oh, shove it.”

They laugh for a bit, and then somehow wind up in a group hug right before time is called.

Marching out of the tent feels a bit like marching off to war, which is crazy because it’s just a maze. 

Harry repeats this to himself as Dumbledore fills in information.

Red sparks means bad, they have to get the cup and then all of this is over. A simple objective, really, like a twisted version of capture the flag. On the sidelines Pomfrey, Ellios, and Bill are sharing worried glances, but it can’t be worse than his friends and family in the stands. He wishes Sirius and Remus could’ve come, but that was out of the question. 

Cedric is the one with the most points, so he goes in first. Krum follows behind him. Fleur smiles his way before going in. Lastly, Harry strides past the tall bushes.

He only jumps a little when they close behind him.

Because he promised  _ literally everyone  _ that he wouldn’t die, Harry takes out his wand and starts to wander through the maze. He has to run a few times when the walls start closing in, and the vines keep trying to grab his ankles, which is very annoying.

His personal favorites are the bogarts that keep popping up, but since he’s fairly sure that his friends and family are in the stands and not dying or trying to kill him, those really aren’t much to deal with.

Harry’s just finished off his tenth bogart when he sees him.

At first he thinks the stupid creature has just taken on a new form, so he approaches Krum carefully.

He’s on his knees, gasping for air. His wand is a few feet away, and the closer that Harry gets the more concerned he is. Blood is dripping from Krum’s mouth, and that just  _ can’t  _ be good.

“Krum?” Harry says as gently as he can.

The boy whips his head around, and Harry knows his eyes are usually clear and focused, so seeing them clouding over is not comforting in the slightest.

“Harry.” Krum rasps, “Harry I can’t fight it, you  _ have  _ to stun me!”

Okay, another boggart then. 

Harry raises his wand and casts  _ ridikkious,  _ but nothing changes. 

Other than the situation, which just got bad.

_ Really bad. _

“Harry! Hex me!”

“Hex you?!” Harry shouts, helping Krum sit instead of kneel, “I can’t  _ hex you!  _ We have to get you to a medic-”

“You don’t understand! I can’t fight it much longer  _ please-” _

“I’m not going to hurt you-”

“-I can’t... _ Harry.” _

Krum eyes fog over completely, going from the warm brown he’s so used to seeing to an unnerving white color. He reaches for his wand, and Harry’s hoping he’s going to cast up red sparks, a healing charm,  _ something,  _ but then Krum kicks Harry away from him and stands.

He points his wand right as Harry’s face.  _ “Avada-” _

_ “Confringo!” _

Krum blasts backwards, leaving just enough time for Harry to look back and see Fleur charging at them. 

_ “Stupify!” _

_ “Reducto!” _

Their spells meet in the middle. Harry scrambles out from under the sparks, rushing to Fleur.

“Wait! Something isn’t right! Look at his eyes! He was saying he couldn’t fight-”

_ “Expulso!” _

Fleur grabs him by the arm and pulls him close right as the force of magic hits them, throwing them back into the shrubs. 

_ “Confringo!”  _ Fleur casts over their heads. They rush to their feet, though Fleur’s limping a bit.

“His eyes?” She squints a little as Krum rises. He’s so battered and bruised Harry’s not really sure how he’s standing, but Fleur gasps so it can’t be good.

“Fuck. Harry get behind me-”

_ “Avada-” _

Fleur releases something like white flames from her hand. They swallow up Krum’s killing curse, pushing him back three feet.

He glares at them, raising his wand once more.  _ “Diffindo!” _

Fleur releases her flames again, it’s a wonder to behold. Their heat is nearly unbearable, but Fleur looks like a creature from fairy tails. Her long blonde hair blows back from their force, her stance is strong, and the last time he saw her skin change it was grey like stone but now it glistens in her flames like polished marble. Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop a bit of Krum’s spell from getting through and slashing Fleur’s leg open.

She falls to the ground and Harry doesn’t want to hurt him. He doesn’t want to hurt  _ anyone,  _ but he can’t let Fleur die, and he knows Krum, the  _ real  _ Krum would be horrified if he ever knew about any of this. 

So Harry raises his wand.  _ “Incarcerous!” _

Thick ropes spill out of his wand and tie Krum up before he can cast another spell, but he still has his wand and he  _ did  _ ask Harry to stun and hex him, so Harry adds a  _ stupify  _ to knock him out. Just in case.

He rushes over to Fleur to look at her leg right as Cedric rounds the corner.

“What’s happening?! I heard shouting, and spells and  _ what the bloody fuck?!” _

“It’s Krum.” Fleur says. The gash is rather nasty, spilling out blood that’s steadily covering Harry’s hands. “He was attacking Harry.”

_ “Krum  _ attacked Harry? Mister brother-in-arms?!” Cedric marches over to them, only to curse at Fleur’s leg. “That looks bad, you need a medic.”

“They  _ both  _ need medics. And Krum didn’t attack me at first...he was trying to fight something. I found him kneeling on the ground, he said he couldn’t fight it and asked me to hex him and then he grabbed his wand and…”

Cedric and Fleur share a look.

“His eyes were fogged over...almost like-”

“He was under Imperius…”

All three of them swear.

“That’s not right. None of the creatures I’ve fought can cast anything significant.” 

“Do you think someone else has gotten in?”

Ron’s words from the first semester pop into Harry’s head. His best friend is right, Riddle always has a helper of some kind.

He reaches into his pocket and grabs Draco’s little watch thing. This kinda feels like a ten situation, so he clicks it once and is surprised when the watch face pops open to reveal some sort of creme. Even so, he trusts Draco, so he rubs the ointment on Fleur’s leg, trying not to wince as it turns from white to pink. 

“We need to get out of here.” He says, wiping his hands off on his legs “Like  _ now.  _ It’s not safe anymore. Not that it was safe in the first place, but...well, you know. I’ll send up red sparks for the two of you.”

Fleur nods, but she can’t walk anyways so it’s not like she had much of a choice. Though blood  _ has  _ stopped gushing from her leg. “You two go get the cup. Stay  _ together.  _ Be safe.” She reaches out her hands for both of them to squeeze.

Harry points his wand to the sky. He and Cedric nod and then they’re running.

Cedric stays a bit behind him as he blasts through boggarts and these weird gargoyle-like creatures. They run for about ten minutes, Harry’s sure they’re getting close, and then he hears Cedric curse behind him.

Harry turns to see something almost as frightening as his friend trying to kill him.

Cedric is screaming, fighting as best he can to get free of the vines. Instead of being minorly inconvenient, they’re swallowing the boy, like he might make a nice addition to the shrubbery. Harry jumps into action, firing  _ diffindo  _ at the area around the boy as he tries to pull him out.

As soon as Cedric’s free they run a bit more, just to be safe, and then stop to catch their breath.

“Thanks,” Cedric pats his shoulder, “You saved my life back there.”

“Well, call me crazy, but I prefer my hedges without live bodies in them.”

Cedric laughs, “Rotting bodies never make for good lawn ornaments.”

“Yeah, rotting corpse isn’t something I’d want in a candle either.”

Cedric completely misses his inside joke, but Draco would’ve loved it. Harry holds onto that thought as they run the next few minutes. They’ve just passed another round of hedges when Cedric pulls him back by his shirt.

“Harry!  _ Look!” _

He points down the corridor Harry had intended to run past. It’s glowing blue. 

Something is up there.

They approach carefully, wands out for when the walls start to close. But the walls don’t close, and they arrive at a glowing blue cup.

“Do you think it’s the right one?” Harry asks.

“I dunno. You should take it and find out.”

Harry shoots him a look.

“No, you take it.”

“Absolutely not. You saved my life back there, and I promised Cho I wouldn’t win, she has her money on Fleur.”

Harry does a double take, glaring at him. “What the fuck Cedric-”

“Look, I’m already in first place, and you’re so far behind that it wouldn’t matter anyways. Plus, if I win Cho owes Astoria twenty gallons.”

“Are you trying to give me pity points?”

Cedric rolls his eyes, “No, I’m trying to give you  _ thank you  _ points.”

“No. You take it or we both stand here and argue about it.”

“We’re not arguing, you’re taking it.”

“Funny, because if you don’t take it then Cho won’t owe Astoria.”

“Do you even know Astoria?”

“Yes,” Harry says, “She showed Draco a lovely ten minutes at the Yule Ball, I have to thank her somehow.”

“So you want to thank her by not winning.”

“Absolutely. Come on, Cedric, this isn’t a Quidditch cup, why would I care about winning it?”

Cedric glares this time, Harry glares right back until the boy sighs.

“Will you settle for taking it together?”

“If it means you take it, then sure.”

They grin at each other, both reaching for the cup. 

But Cedric, the sneaky bastard, pulls back at the last moment.

“Don’t give me that look! You deserve a win-Harry?”

He’s felt like this before. The pulling at his stomach, the feeling of his head swirling. He barely has time to see Cedric’s terrified face reaching towards him before the maze spins away.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He almost misses the red sparks.

Almost.

Draco’s up in the stands, letting Pansy braid his hair because he’s bored and there’s nothing else to do. Plus, Pansy is calmer when her hands are moving, so it seemed like a win. 

And then two red sparks flash across the sky and she pulls so hard on his locks he almost scolds her for it.

But red sparks means bad. Just like the button on his ‘cell phone’. 

They all watch as Ellios and someone he assumes is another Weasley argue with Dumbledore for a minute, and then, like the wonderful person they are, Ellios flips Dumbledore the finger and marches towards the maze. Weasley hesitates for a moment, and then goes after them. Dumbledore strides towards them only for Poppy to catch his arm. She looks furious, which can’t mean anything good, but she’s enough of a distraction to let Ellios and the Weasley get the shrubs open. 

The entire stadium is on the edge of their seats for five minutes.

And then Ellios comes out, Krum floating in ropes behind her.

Draco’s heart goes cold, because if Krum is tied up then-

His eyes widen.

Weasley has someone in his arms. Someone with long blonde hair and a leg that he can see discolored from where he sits. What the  _ fuck  _ happened in there?

They rush the champions over to Poppy, who appears to have aged substantially in the last few seconds. She pulls out her wand and casts a patronus. The white hare listens to her instructions, and then bounds up the bleaches right to him.

_ “Draco.”  _ Poppy’s voice says through the bunny,  _ “Get down here immediately, I need someone competent.” _

Pansy grabs his shoulder, Blaise hands over a hair tye. Theo and Millie stand up and clear a path for him, gently lowering him to the ground once they reach the seats closest to the field.

As soon as his feet touch down he’s rushing towards Fleur.

_ “What happened?” _

_ “There’s too much to explain-” _

“Draco! Heal her leg quickly, I need help with Krum!”

He curses just once, and then whips out his wand. He recognizes the salve on her leg, it’s from Harry’s healing watch.  _ “Is Harry okay?”  _ He whispers as he works.

_ “Yes. He and Cedric are looking for the cup.”  _ She grabs his wrist, looks him right in the eyes,  _ “Draco...something isn’t right. Someone cursed Krum. He was trying to kill Harry, but it wasn’t him. The maze has been compromised.” _

Fuck.

His night just got  _ so much worse.  _

Draco heals her wound quickly, though the salve has already begun stitching the gash on her leg together. A simple _episkey_ __ does the job, and then he’s hugging her and running off to Krum.

“What happened?”

Ellios shoves a knife into his hands so he can cup off the ropes and they can focus on their chart.

“This doesn't make sense.” They whisper. “He has brain damage similar to those who have fought the Imperius Curse.”

“The Imperius?!” Poppy curses, taking the ropes and throwing them on the ground. “So you’re telling me someone used an unforgivable on a child and tied him with magical ropes?”

“Not quite.” Fleur limps over to them, “Harry tied him up-”

Poppy turns on her, “What?!  _ Potter  _ tied him up?!”

“In his defense, Krum  _ was  _ trying to kill us.”

“Kill you?!” Ellios scoffs, “Krum adores the three of you!”

Draco throws his hands up, “Everyone stop! Fleur,  _ what happened?!” _

Fleur gives them a hard look, and then explains as best she can. She heard Harry shouting about hexing someone, thought he was in trouble and ran to help. When she got to the scene, Krum was pointing his wand at Harry’s face and casting the Killing Curse. Naturally she had to get involved, but Harry stopped her. Said something wasn’t right, and then she noticed how weird Krum’s eyes looked.

“His eyes looked weird?” Poppy repeats.

“Yes, tell me, Ellios, what color are Krum’s eyes?”

“Brown.”

“They were white.  _ White.  _ Fogged over to the point that my flames had no effect.”

No one says anything, and then Ellios sighs. “Well, at least that explains the brain damage.”

Poppy curses again, and then, to make matters  _ so much better,  _ Dumbledore comes strolling over.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Draco has been afraid of Poppy before, but he’s never seen her so angry. She whirls on the headmaster, pointing a short finger at his chest. Fleur sits down on Krum’s bench to watch the show.

“You, Albus Dumbledore,  _ have no place here!  _ If I recall correctly, you didn’t want us to gather these two from the maze, and I’m glad as hell that we did! Miss Delacour could’ve lost her leg, if not her life, and Mister Krum has  _ suffered under the imperius curse!  _ Just what type of creatures did you put in that Merlin-forsaken maze?!”

Draco and Ellios both busy themselves with Krum’s chart and general health to avoid the disturbed look on Dumbledore’s face.

“I assure you, Poppy, I would never put my students on a path with the Unforgivables.”

“Never?” Poppy sneers, “So I didn’t heal a dozen of students just a month ago under the same issue? They were all lying, and Minerva and Severus shut down Moody’s class for no reason?”

Dumbledore frowns, Draco has to fight with himself not to laugh. This is a serious moment, he’s healing cuts on Krum’s body for Merlin’s sake. But fuck, he loves Poppy so much for this conversation alone.

“Well, yes, that unfortunate incident did occur, but Alastor is locked in his room. I have a key tied to him, I would know if he left.”

“Did I accuse Alastor?” Poppy asks, turning back to Fleur to make sure her leg is fine. “No, no I didn’t. I  _ said  _ that a  _ child  _ has been  _ cursed  _ again. Where is Bill?”

“Right here!” The Weasley, Bill, comes running up, “Sorry, I was closing up the maze again. Woah, he’s been under one of the Unforgivables.”

Draco steps back to let Bill work, taking over Poppy’s place with Fleur so he can heal some of her minor scrapes and cuts. 

“How can you tell?” Ellios asks, “I can see through the chart but you just walk up and know?”

Bill shrugs, “It’s the way his veins in his left temple are protruding. They’re more fluid, so if I had to guess, probably Imperius. Veins from the Cruciatus are more like lightning bolts, and well, I don’t think I need to explain what happens with the Killing Curse.”

“But how did you know?” Draco asks.

“Well,” Bill rolls up his sleeves without a glance in his direction, “The Unforgivables  _ are  _ curses, and since I’m a cursebreaker I kinda have to know them. Let me just…” He ties up his hair with the flick of his wand, then points the thing at Krum’s head and does a few complicated movements.

Draco, Poppy, and Ellios all watch the results on Krum’s chart. The way the red around his prefrontal cortex lessens, the swelling in his hippocampus goes down as well. After a few seconds Bill stands back. “There! He should have some minor brain swelling, just because he fought it, but he’ll be fine. I’ve never seen you fail before, Madam.”

Poppy seems pleased. Her and Ellios begin a new scan while Bill approaches Fleur.

“Do you mind if I look you over? Your, um, brother?”

“Cousin.” Draco corrects, surprised when Bill smiles.

“Right, your cousin did a wonderful job healing your wounds, but I’d like to make sure that you don’t have any lingering curses like Krum did.”

Fleur flushes at his smile, which is  _ very  _ interesting, then nods once. “I would appreciate that.”

“When Krum wakes,” Poppy says to Dumbledore, “He’ll tell us of who cursed him, and when that happens he better not say it was one of your creatures. Do you understand me, Albus?”

Never in his entire life has he seen Dumbledore nod so quickly.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Something isn’t right.

No, that’s an understatement. 

Something is  _ very  _ wrong.

Narcissa is sitting in her living room when it happens. It’s terribly dreadful outside, all rainy and strangely cold for June. Even so, rainy weather is perfect for tea and reading, and since Harry is in the final task, she needs something to keep her distracted. Grey hair is only acceptable when she’s angry, and stress lines simply annoy her. 

She’s just flipped to the next page of her book, settled more into her most comfortable white chair, and begun reading when he stumbles in.

Lucius throws open the door, a little parade of house elves behind him.

“Sir-”

_ “Narcissa.” _

She stands immediately, already on high alert.

Her husband has looked so much better lately, more and more like the man she fell in love with, strong, loving, helpful,  _ good.  _ But now he tumbles from table to table, clutching at his arm, knocking over lights and coffee table décor.

Narcissa rushes over to him, forcing him down on the velvet couches. “Lucius? What’s happening, love?”

He’s terrified, eyes wide and frantic. Instead of answering, he pulls back his sleeve and shows her something to be afraid of.

The Dark Mark, twisting and turning around his arm. 

“He’s calling.”

“No.” She says, “No, that’s not possible, he  _ can’t  _ be recovered yet!”

_ “Narcissa!”  _ Lucius cries, “I can’t fight him, he’s going to-”

“No, don’t you  _ dare  _ Lucius. Don’t you  _ dare-” _

“I love you.” Lucius manages. “Keep Draco safe-”

“Lucius!”

“I love you-”

“Stop that! You’re not going anywhere- _ Lucius!” _

The swirling starts with his legs, which she tries so desperately to grab a hold of. They slip through her fingertips, she barely has time to catch a final glimpse of the fear in his eyes before he’s gone.

It’s only then that she realizes she’s crying.

The Dark Lord is calling, which means he’s back.

And Harry might be dying, which means her son is probably in danger.

And she’s just watched her husband be taken to fuck knows where without his wand. 

“Misses?” Sisily asks, “What should we do?” 

Narcissa blinks twice, accepting her tissue and wiping her face.

The Dark Lord has a history of being wherever Harry is, and wherever Harry is Draco typically is too.

Right now, they should both be at Hogwarts, and that’s exactly where she’s going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, here's that one chapter I've been promising for weeks. IT'S HERE! Are you excited? Because I am!


	24. Final Task Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has to say, out of all the situations he’s ever found himself in, this is probably his least favorite.

As far as graveyards go, Harry’s seen better.

The tombstones are way over the top, too tall to play hide and seek in, and sure, it has the whole gothic appeal to it, and he doesn’t really have experience in these types of things, but aren’t graveyards meant to honor the dead? Like, aren’t they supposed to be more of a family thing? Where people can put flowers on graves? 

In his mind, he always imagined a sunny day and clear fields, none of this overgrown dead tree shit. He’d ignore the others there, though there’s really no one here to ignore, and go straight to his parent’s graves. He’d place flowers down, white ones because Aunt Petunia says they’re pure, and a few weird ones from herbology because he thinks that his dad would like them. Then he’d tell them about his life, fill them in on important bits, finally have a chance to say ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’. 

This does not look like a place to say ‘hello’ to, but he’d very much like to say ‘goodbye’ to it.

Particularly the grim reaper statue holding him. Call him crazy, but having a marble sheath at his throat doesn’t really fit his graveyard fantasy. 

A creaking of a door he didn’t even know existed catches him off guard, but he watches Peter Pettigrew emerge holding a weird little sack. 

Something tells Harry that Pettigrew didn’t kidnap him to make stew. No, that thing he has probably isn't a sack of potatoes.

Because things can’t get any weirder, Pettigrew smiles at him, then draws a knife from his pocket and traces a tattoo on his arm. He’s mumbling something, though Harry can’t tell what the hell he’s saying. Something awful, probably.

As soon as he’s done tracing, Pettigrew waves his wand in Harry’s general direction. He expects pain, something more than bones that out of the grave he’s apparently being held on.

Harry’s convinced he’s actually knocked out and lying in the maze, because this surely has to be a hallucination. 

Pettigrew uses his wand to wrap his arm, and then Lucius Malfoy is standing before them in a white sweater and slacks.

What the fuck?

He’s on his feet in an instant, eyes widening at Harry, then glaring at Pettigrew.

“What the hell-”

“So sorry to disturb you, traitor,” Pettigrew calmly wipes his knife on his bandage, “But I require your arm.”

“My arm?!” Lucius seethes. Harry sees his eyes flicker over to him, Lucius takes a step his way, but he doesn’t make it far before Pettigrew has his wand at the ready.

“Not so fast, you snake. Your arm, or I kill the boy.”

“You wouldn’t. Potter is too valuable to the Dark Lord.”

“For his life, I’m sure our Lord won’t mind. Though, if you're dissatisfied, I can always kill your son.”

Lucius raises a single eyebrow, “You wouldn’t dare. You won’t be hurting my son and you won’t be hurting the Potter child.”

Pettigrew frowns at him, and Harry is all for acts of bravery, but Pettigrew is probably the person who tied him up so Lucius has already lost his argument. 

“You’re too much of a coward, Peter.” 

That doesn’t make their rat captor happy in the slightest. Pettigrew frowns once and Lucius uses it to his advantage. In one swift movement, Lucius is lunging for Pettigrew’s wand, they tumble to the ground and Harry knows that Pettigrew is bigger, but he hopes that Lucius might be stronger. 

He isn’t. 

Pettigrew emerges with a swift kick in Lucius’s side, tying him up before he can try something again. It’s entirely unfair, Lucius doesn’t even have shoes, much less his wand. 

“Fool! He doesn’t  _ care  _ about you! He never cared about any of us!” Lucius yells, but it doesn’t do him much good.

Harry watches in horror as Pettigrew sits on top of Lucius and cuts his arm clean off.

He nearly vomits, but he’s holding out on the hope that Lucius’s screaming will alert  _ someone.  _

Not fast enough to stop Pettigrew from coming towards him, of course. 

The man seriously has no business smiling coyly. Firstly, he’s clearly never heard of a toothbrush, secondly, coy does  _ not  _ work on him. It just makes him look more like the slimeball he is.

A slimeball drawing a knife on Harry’s skin, but a slimeball nonetheless.

It hurts,  _ fuck  _ it hurts. It feels like his skin is on fire, but his arm is still intact so he’s better off than his boyfriend’s father.

Pettigrew waves his left hand and a cauldron appears. His right hand leads Harry’s blood to join the other ‘ingredients’ floating in the air. He picks the sack up off the dirt, whispering something Harry can’t focus on. He’s a little busy looking at Lucius.

The man is in bad shape, clutching what’s left of his arm and breathing deeply. Harry isn’t the medical wizard in their little group, but he can still tell that Lucius is losing too much blood. And sure, Lucius is a dick, but he’s Narcissa’s dick. Draco’s father. Sirius and Remus’s friend. They’d be sad if he died, and since they’re already going to be pissed at him, he’d prefer they not go through something worse than anger.

A splash draws his attention back to the stumpy rat-man, who’s just dumped whatever was in his sack into the cauldron.

“Bones of thine father…” The bones that hang by Harry’s head fly forward. “Bone of thine betrayer…” Lucius’s arm splashes into the pot. “Blood of thine enemy..”

What the fuck? Who even  _ talks  _ like that anymore, what is this? The eighteen-hundreds? Harry’s tempted to think of a joke, he has to cope somehow, but suddenly nothing is funny.

His head feels like it’s splitting in half, and then little black dots begin to cloud his vision.

Lucius curses, probably because he’s staring in horror at the long pasty body rising from the cauldron. 

Bald head, piercing red eyes, creepy smile and a strong stench of over confidence. 

Harry blinks himself into focusing, then wishes he hadn’t because that’s Tom Riddle standing before him. Age has not been kind to good ol’ Tom, and Harry tries to find a sliver of something good that could result from all this, but he can’t.

If Riddle is back, the war is back. People are going to die, the people he  _ loves  _ are going to die. There will be torture, raids, dead muggles, fear, so many things that should strike dred into Harry’s heart but he just feels tired.

Hopefully it’s just the blood loss.

Tommy-boy starts talking to him, giving him some sort of life story, but Harry can’t seem to care. His entire body feels heavy, and his eyes keep dropping.

Hermione is right, he and Ron really  _ do  _ fall asleep no matter where they are.

_ Fuck.  _ Ron, Hermione,  _ Draco.  _

Harry lets his eyes fall shut so he can see them.

All of them. 

They’re in the classroom, Blaise and Hermione bickering over Herbology. Pansy’s sitting in the corner while Draco braids her hair and Ron paints his nails. He can see Sirius and Remus’s head poking through the fireplace, see Ginny and Luna cuddled up on the couch, the twins and Mille working on some new project. Theo rushes in with Neville, going straight to Blaise, something plant related if Harry had to guess. 

They’re all smiling, at peace,  _ happy.  _ It rattles his core to see them without him, to imagine a reality without them. That happiness threatens to spill into nothing, it hurts just to think about.

And he knows they would feel the same.

Draco told him at the beginning of the year what he means to people.

If he falls asleep, if he stays in this graveyard, he is going to die. 

Didn’t he specifically promise not to die today?

Didn’t he swear to be on the train ride home, to share a book, to make mince pies, to wear a special tux, to have another kiss? 

How the hell can he do any of that if he’s dead?

Harry peeks open his eyes, Riddle is still waxing poetically, and Pettigrew is too busy looking awestruck to pay attention to him. All he has is the knife at his throat and his wand that’s over by Lucius. But that’s fine, he’s worked with less at some point, he’s sure. 

What would his friends do? 

Hermione and Draco would make a plan.

Which he has, at the moment his plan is to get free and get out.

Ron would think of  _ how  _ to execute the plan.

A great question, because he has no way to get back, except for the cup, which is a portkey and also over by Lucius.

Great, now he has a plan and a way to execute it, which means he needs a safe way to do it, something that Blaise would do.

To be fair, Blaise would never put himself in such a position, but Harry usually has a pretty good imagination. Blaise would keep his head down, get free and duck behind the headstones.

But first he has to get out of these fucking ropes.

Didn’t Pansy say something about ropes? Something about fabric unraveling….fuck. He tries to think of what she would do in such a situation, but she’d probably just spit on Riddle, which seems like a better plan than his current one.

At least spitting on Riddle would make him feel better than rubbing his raw skin on what’s probably a grim reaper’s crotch.

Harry feels the bonds start to loosen, for a second he thinks he might actually make it out of here, but then Riddle decides he needs an audience that will actually pay attention to him.

He has to say, out of all the situations he’s ever found himself in, this is probably his least favorite.

He thought that maybe Sirius almost dying last year would stay at the top of his list, but that at least had the positives of riding Buckbeak and, well,  _ Sirius.  _ He can’t really find a positive from being in a graveyard with a bunch of Death Eaters and Moldy Voldy. Even if Lucius is on his side, which he’s not a hundred percent sure the man is, he can’t do much when he’s trying not to pass out from blood loss.

“Isn’t he pathetic?” Tom sneers to his Death Eaters who laugh. “Look at him, little weak Lucius, unable to protect anyone.”

Because he feels the need to prove his point, like Lucius isn’t already missing an arm and half conscious, Riddle casts a casual  _ crucio.  _ Lucius is too out of it to do anything but wither on the ground, but Riddle squeals in delight anyways. 

Harry hates it here.

But, because he is  _ not  _ as lucky as people make him out to be, Riddle gets bored within a minute and turns his attention back to Harry. 

“I nearly forgot our guest!”

Guest? He feels more like a hostage, thanks.

Riddle rants some more about something, he sounds a little angry, but Harry’s still working on his ropes. He tunes back in when Riddle says his name, but at that point most of the Death Eaters are on the floor like they’ve been hit.

“You heard me! Release him! Give him back his wand!”

What the fuck? 

Is he  _ insane?  _

Well, probably. Actually, Harry’s pretty damn sure Riddle doesn’t have much of a brain left. He blames the many deaths the man has gone through. 

Even so, a brave Death Eater comes forward and Harry drops from the grave to the dirt. He can’t tell if it’s the Tournament wounds or the hour he’s spent tied to stone that make his legs hurt. 

Someone tosses him his wand that he catches on instinct, but before he can do  _ anything  _ Riddle is cursing him.

_ “Crucio!” _

Harry doesn’t scream, but that’s just because he’s stubborn and Draco didn’t scream for Moody so he refuses to scream for Tom fucking Riddle. He does, however, fall to his knees, and dig his fingers into the dirt.

It  _ hurts.  _ Worse than anything he’s ever felt before, worse than every cut and scrape, worse than Quidditch wounds, worse than regrowing bones.

“Aw?” Riddle purrs, “Won’t you scream for me Harry?”

Godric, that sounds creepy coming from a grown man. Riddle’s feet come into view, so, like a reasonable person, Harry spits on his toes.

At least Pansy will be proud of him.

Riddle roars, kicking him right in the face. Harry goes tumbling back, hoping to roll away, but he’s too slow. He blinks just once and then he’s face to face with Voldemort. 

“I can touch you now, little boy.”

Seriously? Riddle is sounding more and more like a pedophile. 

To solidify Harry’s new theory, Riddle traces his jawline with a single finger. Harry really, really,  _ really  _ hates everything about this. 

But, if he learned anything from muggle-schools, it’s how to deal with pedophiles.

Harry raises his foot and kicks Riddle right in the balls. It works just as well as it always does, and Harry rolls away after he’s dropped, ducking behind a tombstone.

Okay, he’s in the Blaise portion of his plan, now he just has to get to the cup and get the fuck out of here.

“Find him!” Riddle shrieks, “If he escapes you die!”

_ Fuck.  _

Why do things always end this way for him?

The Death Eaters files out in piles of black fog, leaving Harry along with Riddle and Lucius. At least it’s one-on-one now. Not that it’s great, he’s still just a kid about to face off with a powerful wizard.

But he’s just that. A wizard, a  _ man.  _ He has a first and last name, he is nothing more than a human with a very big ego, and Harry’s friends with Slytherins. He deals with big egos all the fucking time.

In the back of his head he hears a voice that suspiciously sounds like Narcissa telling him that he’s not  _ fighting  _ Riddle. He just has to distract him and get to the cup. 

Harry steps out from behind his headstone, wand raised and only shaking a little bit.

“Ah! The little mouse comes out to play.”

“Oh I get it, you're supposed to be the cat. You know, like a tomcat?”

Riddle looks at him like he’s the crazy one, but it’s the perfect opportunity to throw a  _ confringo  _ his way and run. As soon as the spell leaves his wand Riddle is blown back and Harry’s sprinting over to Lucius, because he’s not going to leave his boyfriend’s father here, and  _ accios  _ the goblet to him.

Riddle makes a face of outrage, screaming his name, but the swirling is starting. He whispers ‘goodbye’ to the graveyard, and no, he’s not going to miss it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco’s not begun pacing yet, but Krum and Fleur are healed, and he’s not going back into the stands with Harry and Cedric still in the maze.

He has no clue what’s happening on the inside, but he does know that if Harry’s hurt he is going to burn Dumbledore to a crisp. Fleur will probably even help. 

See, they’ve already planned it out. Harry is going to show up bleeding and on the brink of death, Draco is going to lose his fucking mind and accidently kill at least five people, and then the minister will get upset because Fudge is arguably the stupidest person in the stadium, so Fleur will kill him, they’ll team up for Dumbledore and Poppy will heal any injuries they get because they saved her the trouble. 

Cedric running out of the maze is not a part of their plan.

“Mister Diggory!” Poppy all but shrieks, the boy’s pants are halfway gone, torn to shreds and while it’s not a  _ bad  _ view, the blood kinda ruins any possible attraction. Draco goes rushing over with her, the two of them already mumbling healing spells.

“Stop!” Cedric pushes them away, running towards Dumbledore, “Where the hell did that cup take Harry?!”

Draco blinks once, then twice, pinches his arm just to make sure he’s not dreaming. Dumbledore stares at Cedric like he’s grown another head, and that never bodes well.

“The cup took Harry?”

“Yes! Where the hell did it take him?! He’s hurt you know! You didn’t say anything about the cup being a portkey!”

Dumbledore frowns, another bad sign, “The cup is not a portkey, Mister Diggory, I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re-”

“The cup isn’t a portkey?” Cedric whispers, eyes wide. A growing sense of doom makes Draco a little queasy. Thankfully Fleur is beside him, offering support before he can ask for it. 

“What happened?” 

Cedric turns her way, fear stricken across his face. “Harry got taken. We-we found the cup together, and he said he wouldn’t take it but, well, he saved my life, you know? The carnivorous vines got me, and he didn’t even think twice, just got me out and got me away and I couldn’t just  _ not  _ let him take the cup, he  _ saved my life  _ so we argued about it, and I should’ve taken it I fucking should’ve but I pulled back at the last second so he’d be the one with the points, and then he just, he swirled, you know? It took him somewhere and I don’t- I can’t- I should’ve-”

_ “Breathe.”  _ Poppy commands, grabbing Cedric’s shoulders. Draco tries to take her advice, but it much harder to focus on her counting in threes than it is to focus on the fact that Harry is  _ fucking gone.  _

Draco racks his brain, trying to figure out what happened, what  _ could’ve  _ happened. There are a thousand people who would want Harry Potter dead, and a million more who would just want him because he’s  _ The  _ Harry Potter. Was he added to a collection? Sold? Obviously someone tampered with the game, they knew that from the beginning, but Draco was just running with the assumption that whoever put Harry’s name in was just a really lazy assassin-

Draco sucks in air.

Not a lazy assassin, a smart one. 

Put Harry’s name in the Goblet, let the Tournament do your job for you. And if Harry somehow manages to survive all three tasks, kill him at the end. 

_ “There’s been a ‘helper’ in the castle every year so far,”  _ He can hear Ron saying,  _ ‘It wouldn’t be insane for another one to be here. Especially with the other schools present.” _

He’s stupid for not seeing it earlier, Ron practically handed him the answer.

“What is it?” Draco turns to see McGonagall approaching, one of the few good things to happen this evening. It’s always nice to have competent people surround you. “Why do you all look like a death has happened?”

Cedric chokes. “Harry-“

“Mister Potter? I’m assuming that he is still within the maze, correct? I do believe he should be crowned winner of this task if that is the case.”

Draco doesn’t have the heart to tell her. He knows Harry means the world to her, hell she let him get away with playing Quidditch first year, and McGonagall  _ never  _ breaks rules. 

Poppy places a hand on her arm, “Minerva-“

“He’ll be fine.” Bill says, coming up on their left. “I gave him extra protection, and Harry is a smart kid. He’ll come back.”

Draco thinks it’s in everyone’s best interest that he doesn’t point out how tightly Bill is squeezing his limp hand. If he’s not careful he’s going to draw blood, but that’s none of Draco’s business. 

He knows it couldn’t be one of the students, it rarely is. They might find him annoying, sure, but none of them were old enough to swear loyalty to Riddle and the only known ‘enemy’ of Harry is supposed to be  _ him.  _ Seeing that they’re secretly dating, Draco rules out the students. 

That leaves adults and the champions, but Draco  _ knows  _ Cedric and Fleur didn’t do it, and Hermione is too smart to date someone evil. The first word against Harry and she would’ve permanently glued Krum’s tongue to his mouth. He’s pretty sure Krum can still talk, and that means whoever is after Harry is probably an adult. 

Specifically, a professor. 

Draco’s money is on Karkaroff. 

He knows the man used to be a Death Eater, he runs a school notorious for teaching students the Dark Arts, Severus and Ellios both hate him, he was rude to Harry when this whole train wreck began, and he’s refusing to look anyone in the eye. Very suspicious, but it’s not enough for Draco to start pointing fingers. 

It doesn’t matter how angry and worried he is, if he’s wrong then he could make things worse for Harry. So, Draco takes a deep breath and resolves to keep a close eye on Karkaroff. 

At least, that’s the plan until a swirling begins in the middle of the clearing and Harry appears with his  _ bleeding father what the fuck?! _

Honestly, he should really stop making plans. They never seem to work out for him. 

Draco blinks twice and then he’s running, sprinting over to them and not giving a damn about anything else. 

“What happened?!” Poppy yells, but Draco can’t yell. 

He can’t do anything but stare at the mess in front of him and think  _ where the fuck is his arm?  _

It’s gone. 

There’s a bloody mess where an arm should be and Draco knows it should be there because it’s the arm he’s not supposed to look at, the one Narcissa had to kill Lucius over, the one that caused a majority of his suffering and it’s just gone. Empty space filling with red and he has no fucking clue-

“Draco. I need you to keep the bleeding at bay, Ellios, we’re going to have to move him.”

He listens blindly to Poppy’s orders, wand out and doing as he’s told. Draco registers that Harry is safe and not horribly injured, both Fleur and Cedric are on either side of him so Draco  _ knows  _ his boyfriend is fine. 

His father, not so much. 

They’re rushed to the hospital wing, despite the annoyance of the crowd. Some of the professors stay behind to try and calm the situation, not that he gives a flying fuck. 

As soon as they’re inside the familiar place with white walls and white beds he and Poppy go to work. 

Draco keeps the bleeding at bay, just barely acknowledging the complicated bit of spell work Poppy is doing. She disappears after five minutes, tapping him lightly on the shoulder to stop but he can’t stop. He can’t do nothing right now, and she must get that because she says “wake him, I’ll be right back.”

Draco reaches out to squeeze a hand that isn’t there, something warm touches his back, someone says his father’s name. He looks up to see Fleur smiling at him, leaning over to shake and yeah, yeah okay. Poppy probably has to give him potions, and he can’t take them until he’s awake. 

“Lucius.” Draco mummers, then, quietly, “... _ please.” _

Nothing happens. So Draco tries again.

“Asshole.”

Absolute silence. Not a remark about how unseemly his language is. Not even a sharp look. He doesn’t like this one bit. It’s different, something has changed and seeing his father like this doesn’t feel right.

_ “Dad!”  _

Still nothing.

He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, maybe it’s the pent up rage, maybe it’s the stress of the situation, maybe it’s because he’ll never get another chance to. Draco reaches out and slaps his father across the face. Poppy scolds him but it  _ works.  _ Lucius awakes with a gasp and a cough. 

“What-“

Poppy shoved a potion in his face. “Drink this if you want an arm.”

Lucius drinks. 

He struggles to get up, it takes Draco, Poppy,  _ and  _ Fleur to keep him down. “Let me up! I have to-Potter is going to-! Draco?”

Lucius looks around the room, though he doesn’t get a long time to peek before Draco is throwing his arms around his father’s neck. Sure, the animosity is still there, and it’s weird to hug someone with one arm, but it’s not scary. Draco doesn’t feel frightened, or unsafe, he’s just happy that Lucius isn’t bleeding anymore.

“What happened?”

Fleur goes to open her mouth, but a loud commotion at the door makes them all look to the left.

Snape, Dumbledore, Percy Weasley, that Bill fellow, the minister, a woman with weirdly colorful hair, and his mother all walk into the room. It sounds like the punchline to a bad joke, but he’s never been more happy to see his mother.

Narcissa rushes over to them, knocking Dumbledore to the side in her quest to smother them both.

“You’re both going to die, do you understand me?!” She whispers as she draws them both in, “I am going to kill you if you keep doing this me-where is your arm?”

“His arm?!” Percy asks, right as Bill says something that strikes fear into his heart all over again, “Where’s Harry?”

Narcissa freezes. A ripple of movement strikes the room. Fleur, Cedric, and Bill look frantically around like Harry might pop out of thin air, Poppy, Percy, and Snape look ten years older, their worry-lines are going to cause permanent wrinkles. Draco can’t even  _ look  _ at his parents, Dumbledore seems to be the only calm person in the room.

“He was just right here!”

“I walked in with him!”

“Did you see-”

“Maybe to the bathroom-”

“He can’t just leave-”

“-at a time like this-”

Draco ignores them all. He needs to find Harry, and he knows exactly how to. He steps back from everyone, draws his wand and casts his Patronus. The three-headed snake blinks at him, one head squeezes his leg like a hug.

It’s an effective way to shut everyone up.

“Bring me the twins.” He says to the snakes, then “Winky!”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


He’s not really sure how he ended up here, but that seems to be the theme of the day.

The whole year if he’s honest. First his name gets thrown into some Death Tournament that upsets literally  _ everyone,  _ but guess what? He still has to do it or he’ll die. Then, because Lady Luck seriously hates him, he’d been snatched from the end of the stupid thing and thrown into a mess with Tom Riddle. Typical, of course, but still annoying. Escaping from him was supposed to be it for the day. Harry was supposed to go into the hospital wing and stay there, probably get looked over, see a few friendly faces, be there when his boyfriend realizes his father’s limb is missing, hug his friends and endure their lectures. 

But once he entered the door of the hospital wing darkness had overtaken him, and now he’s Godric knows wear, pinned down to a shitty seat with shitty ropes to end his shitty day.

Honestly, he’s only fifteen, can he  _ please  _ catch a break?

The room itself is nearly as strange as his predicament. It’s all cold and dark, walls of stone and wooden floors, a drip to the right from the rain that’s begun outside leaks onto the floor. There’s a single bed pushed into the alcove, a tiny kitchen, nothing that goes with the stinging damp and creepy aesthetic of his captor.

Moody licks his lips, lazy eye spinning around. “I’ve got you now, Potter. It was mighty rude of you to disappear on the Dark Lord, boy.”

“It’s mighty  _ illegal _ for him to kidnap me,  _ sir.”  _

Godric, Draco is going to kill him if he dies for being sarcastic. 

Moody snarls at him, getting way too close for a teacher.  _ “How dare you disrespect the Dark Lord!”  _ Disgusting. What is it with Death Eaters and not brushing their teeth?

Harry takes a deep breath, trying not to be mean. He’ll probably be killed if he’s mean, and that would piss off a lot of scary people. “I mean no disrespect, sir, I just think that Riddle-”

The hand across his cheek hurts, but he’s had a lot worse. It’s not almost being murdered by a friend, it ranks more around tripping in the Great Hall.

_ “Silence.  _ The Dark Lord’s name will  _ not  _ be slandered before me. It’s his genius that made this plan work, yes….yes it is. You see, Harry Potter, my father and I never really got along…”

Harry sighs internally, he really hates back stories.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“A map?”

Draco rolls his eyes, not actually looking at Percy. He doesn’t want to offend his friend’s family, but the twins have no issue doing it.

“Yeah,” Fred begins, “Maps are more useful than you think.”

“They do much more than light the way-”

“If you’re lucky,”

“And up to absolutely nothing,”

“If you two don’t stop talking like Gramps-” Bill doesn't even get to finish his threat before Fred and George have the map open and spread across the nearest bed. Perfect.

“Everyone!” Draco commands, “Look on the map for Harry’s name!”

“For Harry’s name?”

“What does a name have to-”

“- _ What is this map?!” _

Draco glares at them all just once and suddenly everyone is keen to help. Poppy, Ellios, and Severus take the upper levels, the Weasleys take the middle, Draco and the rest look through the bottom. Almost everyone is looking, well, everyone but Dumbledore and Fudge, of course, because they’re not at all the type of people who are supposed to protect children. 

They don’t have time to be divided right now. Even if Dumbledore is angry that they haven’t spoken all year, even if Fudge is supposed to be prim and proper, none of that should matter right now. A person, a  _ very important person,  _ is missing. Draco wants to yell and cuss at them, to beg them to help, anything to find Harry-

“I found him! He’s with...who the fuck is Barty Crouch?”

“Barty?!” Percy gasps.

Lucius sighs, “Barty as is the Sir or Junior?”

“Junior.” The twins say, much to Percy’s confusion and Lucius’s agitation.

“More concerning than that,” Dumbledore leans over to peer at the map, “How did Mr. Crouch Jr. get into Alastor’s room when it’s locked?”

Fuck. Fuck Draco doesn’t like where this is heading. He couldn’t give less of a shit of what this means. Crouch and Moody probably got Harry together, and Draco’s gotta go save his dumbass boyfriend so he can be the one to curse him out. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


At least he understands  _ who  _ started all this mess. This Barty Crouch Jr. asshole is very interested in gaining a bit of sympathy, and hey, he does understand. Crouch didn’t get on with his pops, Harry’s hated Vernon since he knew what hate was. Crouch didn’t have a good mother figure, Harry never had a mum. They have a surprising amount in common, only Harry can’t see himself ever kidnapping a child and trying to kill them.

On the plus side, Harry is still alive, like Crouch is avoiding it. Or maybe like he has a lot of secrets to keep and no one to share them with so murder victims is it? 

“You’ll see, yes. I’ll turn you in, the Dark Lord will be so very impressed with me, I’ll be favored if I kill you. I’ll be invited to join his inner circle, to fill in Malfoy’s spot….the inner circle is supposed to be stuff of legends…..to be one of them…. _ oh.” _

Harry grimaces, that’s only a sound he wants to hear his boyfriend make, not some overgrown child in a really deep goth faze.

“Yes, I do believe that would be good….what say you, Potter?” Moody, well it’s technically Barty Jr. polyjuiced  _ as  _ Moody, “Are you ready to die?”

How does a person even respond to that? Obviously the answer is no, but just staring seems kinda rude. He could always just say ‘yes’ but then Draco would be mad at him and Hermione would worry. 

“I won’t do it quickly, of course, they have me…..isolated...so we can have all the fun we wish to have...I think I quite like that...yes...handing you over to the Dark Lord is much better than just killing you…” Barty-Moody smiles at him, waving a  _ crucio  _ his way..

His body spasms on impact, and it hurts just like last time, but not nearly as bad. The only issue is that he can’t contain himself this time. He had anger back in the graveyard, anger and pure stubbornness. All he has right now is exhaustion and pain, neither of which can keep him from screaming.

It’s not fun to experience, so witnessing it can’t be all that great.

Harry blinks twice, just to make sure he’s seeing this right, and then something like warmth floods his system.

Draco stands in the doorway, but not his normal Draco. This Draco is pissed, and Harry gets it, he  _ did  _ just walk in on his missing boyfriend being tortured with a black eye and unhealed wounds. His hair snakes up like Harry’s seen so many times, but now it turns from that white-blonde to silver, like a head full of snakes. His eyes flash dangerously, his skin reminds Harry of the moon.

It happens in a blur. One second the door is closed and Harry is screaming and it fucking hurts, and then the door is open, Draco’s bursting in looking a lot like Fleur when her sister was taken, and drawing his wand. Harry doesn’t have time to process the extent of it. All he knows is that his boyfriend’s wand was out, and now there is a small gash leaking profusely from the side of Moody-Crouch’s neck. 

“Harry,” Draco breathes, and fuck when did he get so close? His eyes are so different from normal, all steely and cold. They look like whatever stars are made from, and given that Draco’s hair is smoothing back down into liquid silver, he just looks like a star in general. A shiny, very beautiful, warm and bright star.

Draco throws his head back and laughs, “You’re still out of it then, huh?”

“Harry!” “Draco!”

_ “Draco Malfoy!” _

_ “What in the world-?!” _

Harry looks around wildly at the voices, but Draco shushes him and pulls him close.

“I made it back.” Harry mummers into his boyfriend’s neck. It’s much more pleasant here, Draco used that mahogany body wash that he likes, he can tell. “I told you I would.”

“I don’t think this counts, I had to come find you.”

“Where- _ OH MY GOD! ALASTOR-” _

_ “What happened?!” _

_ “What is the meaning of this?!” _

“I’m sorry that you’re going to have to deal with this.” Harry whispers, not even sure if Draco can hear him. Arms tighten, he gets a little warmer.

“Don’t worry, it’s no big deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i was so late I finally moved!!! I have an apartment with my to best friends!! AH!!!!! anyways, let me know if you like it :) if it didn't meet your expectations also let me know plz but it won't change anything because I have a plan and I hope ya'll like it just as much as i do :)


	25. A Parting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ll be okay for a few months, won’t you?” Ron asks.

He knew it was going to happen one day.

Dumbledore made it very clear that his hands would eventually be dirty, his father couldn’t fathom a world without bloodied nails. Even Severus, cool, collected,  _ caring  _ Severus had known.

_ If the war starts, there’s no telling how it will go, Draco. You have to be prepared to face the consequences of every action. That is the path you will take if you’re serious about this. _

He doesn’t hesitate, he can’t. 

Draco hears screaming and it sends his body into auto-piolet. Harry is in that room,  _ Harry  _ is screaming. Some  _ bastard is hurting Harry.  _

He throws open the door and for a second he can’t breathe.

Harry’s alive, of course he’s alive, but he’s withering in his holds, the gash on his arm bleeding all over the place and- _ is that a fucking black eye?  _

His rage overtakes him, but it’s not like normal. It’s not all consuming, it doesn’t shove his vision back, it doesn’t make him lose control. He can see  _ everything.  _ The torn skin on his boyfriend’s arm, the veins carrying into a bruising patch of skin, eyelashes with tears clinging to them, dust mingling with pained gasps of air, the widening of a brown eye that’s supposed to be blue. 

It happens in slow motion almost. Moody turns his wand on Draco, killing curse on the tip of his tongue but Draco is quicker. He watches, waiting for the right millisecond of Moody’s turn, right when his obliques reach 67 degrees Draco raises his wand. One swift  _ diffiendo  _ is all it takes to slice open Moody’s jugular furrow. Blood gushes out, some splashes on his cheek, he has half a mind to clean it off so his mum won’t freak out, but he has to get to Harry. 

He shoves Moody to the side so he can bleed out and rushes towards his boyfriend, wand already cutting through the ties that hold him down. 

“Hey…” He whispers, but Harry just blinks a few times. Not good. “Harry.”

Harry moves his head a little too quickly, but it’s okay because Draco is there to cradle it. “Woah. Like a star...a shiny, very beautiful, warm and bright star.” Harry smiles dopily at him, and Draco’s completely lost to the situation until Harry tugs at his hair. “Pretty…”

Draco laughs, because if Harry is flirting then he’ll be fine. He’ll need a few hours of sleep but he’ll be fine.

“Harry!” “Draco?” There are the twins, trust them to beat everyone else here. 

But how the hell did they beat his mum-  _ “Draco Malfoy!”  _ Oh fuck he’s gonna get it later.

They burst into the room all at once, the twins, Narcissa, Dumbledore, Fudge, Percy and that lady with the weird hair. 

Fudge immediately loses his shit, and Percy’s right there with him, albeit a little more understanding.

Harry shifts in his arms, turning away from the noise and burying himself closer. He’s a little cold, a sure sign of blood loss that Draco intends to deal with in the next five seconds. “I made it back. I told you I would.”

Draco tucks dark curly hair behind an ear, checking Harry’s temperature and sneaking a peek at that bruise on his eye, “I don’t think this counts, I had to come find you.”

Harry smiles a bit, sighing out some tension that was lingering in his body. Across the room Dumbledore opens a chest to reveal the real Moody, chained up and very grossly naked. That’s a lot of bare old man flesh. Draco frowns, turning his head back to those approaching instead of watching Poppy beat around a fifty year old bare ass.

“I’m sorry that you’re gonna have to deal with this.” Harry slurs, and if it weren’t for the many nights they fell asleep with the Gang while studying Draco would have no clue what he’s saying. 

The twins look a little white in the face, and he could be wrong but Percy is looking at Harry like he might start crying on the spot. And yeah, it probably isn’t a good idea to do this but Draco doesn’t give a flying fuck.

He leans down and kisses Harry’s moppy head, “Don’t worry, it’s no big deal-”

“Holy fuck we need to get him back to the medical ward!” The purple hair lady says, eyeing the scene before her.

“Not yet.” Draco eases Harry back into his chair, casting a quick diagnostic. He summons Winky, tells her to go and get blood replenishing potions while he heals the most concerning wound. He’s exhausted, all he wants is to crawl into bed and sleep, but he can’t do that until Harry is okay, and keeping the Weasleys at bay when one of their own is hurt  _ sucks,  _ but Poppy insists.

Five hours and a pepper-up potion later he gets to kiss his boyfriend.

“Don’t you ever do that again.”

“I would like to go on a limb and say I didn’t really have control over it this time.”

_ “This time?!  _ Are you implying there’s going to be a  _ next time?!” _

Narcissa and Lucius both badly hide their amused snorts. Poppy placed them next together, something about ‘making your visits easier, Draco’ but he can’t be sure. Bill and Percy both don’t seem to mind, though their hovering is beginning to get annoying.

“Mate,” Fred complains, “That’s our little brother.”

George frowns, “I think it’s good that little Harry Hare has someone special.”

_ “I think,”  _ Percy reaches over to flick Harry’s hand, “That Harry should be more careful! You could’ve died today!”

“But I didn’t! Bill even gave me Black Tourmaline, I’m fine!”

Bill glares, but it’s fond, “You’re in a hospital bed, Harry, please don’t say you’re fine.”

Harry opens his mouth to protest, but the doors to the hospital wing burst open. Draco hops off his boyfriend’s bed right as Ron and Hermione come running, they’re crying like no tomorrow, and no one dares to stop them from tackling Harry on his bed.

“You’re going to make me bald!” Hermione says hotly, “I thought you had-”

“ _ Didn’t I say no dumb shit?!”  _ Ron sobs,  _ “Disappearing counts, you ass!” _

“Out of my way!” Another familiar voice yells, “Get the bloody hell out of my way!  _ Is he okay?! Harry?!”  _ Mrs. Weasley comes into view, body sagging with relief when she sees Harry in one piece. She gathers him, Ron, and Hermione into a big hug. “You’re going to give me greys before the twins do!”

“Hey!”

Ginny, thank Merlin, is not on the verge of tears, but she is at a loss for words. No snarky comment or pun at the ready, just a tight smile and clenched fists. Arthur Weasley looks much like his parents, aged and tired.

“Mr and Mrs Malfoy,” He inclines his head, “It seems I owe your son another thank you.”

Draco shakes his head, waiting for his mother’s nod before he says “I’ll save him as many times as he needs me too.”

“Oh shut up,” Harry blushes, still captive in his friend’s arms, “I don’t get into that much trouble-”

_ “First year,  _ darling, do you want to recount it or should I?”

Harry goes conveniently quiet.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It doesn’t take long for the news to spread around the whole school. 

Since Draco’s outed himself as a goody-two-shoes, Pansy and Blaise storm the hospital wing to inspect Harry for themselves, and because they come, Theo and Millie naturally tag along, and since the Slytherins all came, the Gryffindors came too. Draco’s just happy Narcissa took his dad home before dinner. 

The lot of them demand the full story right as the other champions, except Krum who’s still sleeping, join the party.

The full story is honestly more unbelievable than their normal bullshit.

Barty Crouch’s son, Junior, helped Riddle get his bearings and find a spell to revive him, snuck into Hogwarts and overtook Alastor Moody, who is surprisingly funny. Junior posed as Moody to get closer to Harry for blood purposes. After he realized Harry is harder to kill than most people, he entered the maze, cursed Krum, and set the cup as a portkey. He would’ve killed Harry if Draco hadn’t gotten there in time. Considering the scheme of things, and the visible proof from Snape’s arm, his murder was looked over as clear self defense, or that’s what Auror Tonks and Kingsley said. His mum still won’t tell him why she tears up looking at the weird auror, but he’ll have time to whittle her over summer.

Fudge was too angry to do much but sputter and try to make a scene, and Draco has to admit. He didn’t care for Percy Wealsey until this afternoon. He’s done his fair share of making important people look stupid, but the way Percy shut the minister’s rant down and silenced him was down right impressive. Though it doesn’t beat Kingsley kicking Fudge out after he tried to give Draco a trail for murder. He never knew Fleur could like an authoritative figure so much, but he also never pegged her as the sort to like red-heads. 

“So, that’s it then?” Neville asks, “Riddle is back?”

Harry nods, his hands tightening in his sheets. “He’s back.”

A hush falls over the room, all of them taking in what this means. It’s going to get nasty….

“So what?” Pansy whispers. Hermione nods. “He’s just a man.”

“A powerful man,” Blaise supplies, “But he has to have some sort of weakness.”

“They always do…” Theo slings his arms over Blaise and Neville, “But we’re good with weaknesses, right?”

Ron nods, “Think about it. It’s not just us against him. It’s us, our families, the rest of the wizarding world....”

“And if we die,” Luna smiles, though Draco’s pretty sure this is not a smiling matter, “We’ll do it in the name of good and we’ll do it together.”

It leaves a bittersweet taste in all of their mouths. 

Poppy comes to kick them all out, refusing to let Draco stay because apparently rest is important to him too.

He doesn’t think he’ll be getting much rest for the night, though. Blaise and Theo lead the way into the Slytherin common room, Draco bringing up the end of their little group and running smack into Pansy right as he wonders where the hell LuLu is. 

The entire house is sitting there, staring at them. Some are in tears, some look angry, some hopeful. On the plus side, LuLu is there too. She hops off the fireplace to twirl around his legs, like the air in the room doesn’t bother her one bit. 

“Is it true?” One of the first years whispers, the tiny one who’s named E-something, “Is he back?”

Draco’s silence is the only answer they need. 

Someone sobs, others curse, Flint actually sinks to the floor.

Draco’s about to reassure them, but then the tiny first year who dared to speak catches his robes. She can’t be taller than five-feet, eyes big and brown and innocent, clad in nothing but an oversized butterfly nightgown. “Is it true that we don’t have to follow him? That we can be like you?”

That sparks something around the room. They look to him, crying dies down, everyone seems to hold their breath, and Draco knows it’s not that simple, because it never is.

“Look,” He begins, “There’s no way to hide it. He is back, things are going to get shitty, we are going to have another war. But you have to remember that no one, not even your family, can make you do something you don’t want to. I was lucky. You all know mine and my family’s stance by now, but for some of you it’s going to be awful.” Great, now the first year looks close to tears. 

“So all the friends I’ve made this year...they don’t matter anymore?”

“Of course they matter.” Draco says, a little impulsive, “Friends can become family, and-” Fuck they all look so hopeless. If he were in their shoes what would he want to hear? 

Slytherins don’t like sugar coated things, they like the truth, whatever they think that is. They enjoy being the only ones with a clue, and he knows this is going to bite him in the ass, but his vision is starting to blur and he’s really spent too much energy  _ and  _ magic today, LuLu is very unhappy with him. “I’ll tell you all a secret. Hermione Granger may have come from nothing but she will be the best witch of our age. Millie here has a muggle mother, and none of you doubt her ability. Slytherin isn’t synonymous with Pure-Blood. We’re cunning, we’re smart, we’re resourceful, we’re ambitious, and there is nothing our house cannot do once we’ve united. Blood isn’t everything, it doesn't have to be and it won’t be here.”

“Draco?” Pansy whispers, but her and Blaise stand firm at his side, sizing up their house just in case.

“It won’t. We’re here to learn,” Draco smiles at the little first year, “To make friends, to hone our magic. Hogwarts is not a place for fighting, it is no place for war. Outside, things are going to be different, but we’re Slytherins first. Slytherins who hate losing Quidditch games, who hide friendships with other houses, who call Hogwarts our second home. Anything else comes after.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

Draco doesn’t jump, but it’s only because he’s so used to Severus surprising him. His godfather stands tall, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“If you need to speak with your parents, you may follow me to my floo. Those of you who remain should go to bed, we all have a tiring journey before us. And as my godson said, within these walls we are united as Slytherins first and foremost.”

A handful of people break off to follow Snape, who hugs him briefly before departing. That should be it for the night, but he still has a lot of people blocking the way to his bedroom.

The little first year smiles up at him, “You’re a brave one.”

“And you’re a rude one.” Draco smirks back. He ruffles her hair like he’s seen the twins do to Ron and Harry, “Go to bed like Snape said, you’ll feel better in the morning.” 

“He’s right, Emilia,” Pansy mummers, hugging the girl and handing her off to Daphne. The younger Greengrass sister pauses to smile at them, grabbing Millie’s and Pansy’s hands to squeeze. 

“Goodnight!” Emilia waves. Draco waves back, kissing Pansy and Millie on the cheek so they can retire too. Theo and Blaise flank him on the way to his room, nearly everyone stays out of their way.

Nearly everyone.

“You’ve made a big mistake, Malfoy.” 

Draco grits his teeth, but he won’t be intimidated by goons who abandoned him. LuLu hisses at Crabbe and Goyle both, he’s never loved her more.

“That’s funny, I seem to be on a bit of a lucky streak.”

“You call this luck?” Goyle snorts, “You ‘n Potter are fools.”

“Me and  _ Harry  _ are smart. We won’t be threatened by a rabid, noseless freak with a god complex and neither should you. Every Death Eater in your line is a disgrace to your family name.”

A circle breaches for them, which is fair because Draco’s a hundred percent sure he’s about to be punched in the face. Crabbe swings first, but Draco catches him in a body bind, throwing one on Goyle for good measure.

“If that’s all, I’ll be going to bed now.” He looks around the room with a raised eyebrow, “Unless anyone wants to join them?”

Suddenly all the eyes watching him look away. Good.

He drags Theo and Blaise into the room. Blaise can complain later, but Theo is the lightest sleeper in the dorm, so if someone breaks in at least they’ll have a fighting chance. If Theo hears them over Blaise’s snoring, of course.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


All Harry plans to do is go to breakfast, not make a huge political statement the day before the other schools leave. 

After a very intense coin toss competition that lasted all of five minutes Cedric had been declared winner of the Triwizard Tournament. He’d immediately split the winnings four ways, telling Harry to donate his to charity or something. Pansy and Theo think it’ll be great for his public image, but Blaise, ever the realist, reminded them that the last thing he needs are crazed fans. 

They were supposed to leave it at that for the day, meet back up later that night, so when Draco takes him by the hand and leads him to the Great Hall, well, he isn’t going to say  _ no  _ and he doesn’t even panic that much.

Harry’s still a little fuzzy on the details, but apparently Narcissa is secure enough in Draco’s safety for him to stop lying to the general public, which makes sense because Harry will definitely vouch for Mr. Malfoy if anyone gives him shit, and it would be a little weird if Lucius and Narcissa stuck up for him and Draco didn’t. 

Family ties and all that. 

No one notices them walking in at first, just a normal breakfast for the year, but then Dean and Seamus spot them and everything goes to shit from there. Heads turn one by one, like little lights turning on. The silence is deafening.

Draco leads their group with his head held high, and since Harry  _ knows  _ how important image is to Draco and the rest of his Slytherins, who are kinda doing a big thing right now, Harry straightens his spine and tightens his grip on Draco’s hand. He can’t see it, but he can  _ feel  _ Pansy’s pride behind him. 

They don’t go to the Slytherin or the Gryffindor table. Instead they march right up Fleur, who’s all but flagging them down, and bunch up at the center table by the front. It’s supposed to be the Beauxbatons table, but the visiting schools are spending the morning saying goodbye to their Hogwarts friends so it’s mostly empty. 

Well, not anymore. 

Because The Gang, the original six, Millie, and Theo sit together, the twins, Luna, and Ginny have to join. They naturally drag Neville into the mix, and because Harry and Fleur are sitting together, Cedric and Krum have to join, which means Cho joins their little group and Cedric drags Willie along too. For some reason he can’t really fathom, probably because they don’t want to be left out, Seamus and Dean sit across from Neville and Theo, even stranger than that is the Greengrass sisters who tentatively sit by Pansy and Hermione. 

All in all, it’s not the most familiar group to eat breakfast with while the entire Great Hall stares at them, but his friends seem happy so Harry guesses it’s fine. 

“I think you’re wrong,” Blaise is telling Neville to his left, “Soil compounds can easily be manipulated.”

“And I think you’re a blithering idiot.” Neville shoots back, saying something that Harry can’t begin to follow. Something about CO2 levels in dirt, but he’s not sure. He is sure that Seamus and Dean shouldn’t be smiling like they are at the two plant-freaks, he tries to listen to whatever they’re saying but he can only hear ‘remember when we were like that?’ so he gives up and turns to the right side of the table.

“-and that’s why I think the nargals have taken my rubber bands again, it’s a true travesty, you know.”

“The travesty is that I can’t see them,” Cho pouts, “I’ve been looking for research books about them and I’ve only found two.”

Luna nods, Harry has no fucking clue what they’re talking about, but Cedric and Willie seem just as confused.

“Is she bonkers-hey!”

Willie rubs the side of his arm, but it’s his own fault for insulting Luna in front of Ginny. “Watch your mouth, blue-eyes, she’s not crazy, she’s just much smarter than you.”

“Ohhh! Look and Gin-Gin being protective-”

“Like you two aren’t the same! You can’t be in a room without each other!” Ron is going to regret that when the twins prank him tonight. 

Hermione tosses her hair back, rolling her eyes at the red-heads, “Anyways, Astoria, I rather think you’re right about acceptance rate, and Draco’s been explaining it to me all year, but I still don’t like the thought of forced labor on innocent creatures.”

“It’s less forced labor,” Daphne frowns, “I don’t believe they hate the work, though the rate of abuse isn’t as bad anymore, no one really likes to torture things that scream.”

“Morbid!” Pansy chimes in, stealing a bit of Millie’s egg. Millie, the poor soul, doesn’t even notice. Harry wonders if she’s made a book recommendation list for Hermione yet. “Let me tell you about my plan for Jasmine’s bridesmaids dresses!”

“You’re already making more dresses?! I thought you were working on an art portfolio!”

“You are the one who made Hermione’s dress?” Krum asks.

Harry tunes out of that one real quick, which means he gets to listen to Fleur and Draco talk in rapid fire French that he still hasn’t got around to learning.

He’d like to, because it’s something that’s important to Draco, and most of his friends know it. Hell, most of his friends know at least one other language, even Hermione in a way because he definitely can’t figure out half the stuff she says when she goes on one of her school rants. Maybe that can be his summer distractor, learning a new language. And writing to Sirius, and now that he’s thinking about it, it’s a little weird that he hasn’t spoken to Sirius in a week. Is there a letter waiting for him somewhere? What in Godric’s name could’ve happened-

“-ello? Harry? You there?”

Harry blinks up at his friends, all smiling at him in their own weird ways, well, everyone except for Willie who he doesn’t really know anyways. 

Draco reaches down to grab his hand, “Eat your sausages, love, they’ll get cold.”

“You could always warm them up for me.”

Fleur’s eyes sparkle, “And cut them.”

“Oh shove it.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco almost didn’t come. 

He thought about it, afterall dipping out of a meeting with the most fearsome wizard in the world is a power move. But if he did that his mother would be annoyed. The more they know what Dumbledore’s planning the more they can try to keep it from falling apart. 

When he last climbed these steps he’d been excited, he’d had information, he’d felt like he was doing something important. 

Now he’s mildly annoyed that this old ass made him leave his bed before ten. Even Poppy is giving him a break! The only reason he bothered coming is because LuLu meowed at him until he followed her.

The password is no longer gumdrop, but something equally stupid in that weird endearing old man way. He mutters ‘bluebell’ under his breath and steps in.

If the conversation goes wrong at least he gets to see Fawkes. 

Dumbledore offers him a seat, a lemon drop, and a tea that Draco doesn’t bother drinking.

“Can we get to the point, sir?” He asks five minutes into pointless pleasantries, “I find I’m quite busy these days.”

“Too busy for a conversation with an old benefactor? You’ve been avoiding it all year.”

“Nonsense, you’ve been a little preoccupied with your company is all.”

In his mind Draco can see a chess board, like the one he got Ron for Christmas. All the pieces have been placed, and the next words will be the orders that make the knights roll out.

“We have had interesting company, have we not?”

Draco crosses his ankles, “What do you want, Dumbledore? I saved the hero, we’ve got more supporters, I’d lay down my life for him at this point. What else do I have left to give?”

“I want to know how you are, Draco.”

So he’s looking for a weakness. Draco has plenty, but he doesn’t trust Dumbledore. Not anymore.

“I’m fine, sir.”

“You don’t act like it.”

_ Fuck.  _ He’s gotta keep his temper under control.

“What can I say….I’ve grown.”

A stalemate. Someone’s going to have to break. And since Draco doesn’t have all morning to wait around and be cryptic, he brushes a hand across LuLu and meets Dumbledore’s annoyingly insightful gaze.

“He’s back. We both know it, we’ve been preparing for it, you and I both have people on our sides for this fight.”

Dumbledore raises an eyebrow, “Sides? I was under the impression that we worked together, on the same side…”

“No.” Draco doesn’t even blink, “No you lost that privilege when you betrayed Sirius. When you put Harry in danger, when you outed Remus in an attempt to control Sirius’s movements, your actions as of late have been nothing but insulting, and I will not bow to you if you insist on hurting the people I care for.”

Dumbledore nods thoughtfully, like he’s watching knights knocked down, but Draco knows. And Dumbledore knows.

His king has fallen, and now Dumbledore is faced with Draco’s king and queen. 

“And Harry? Will you not protect him now that I have crossed you?”

Draco smiles, all soft and kind, the exact opposite of how he feels. “Allow me to make this clear, sir, I will protect Harry until my dying breath. Those who cross him will face my wrath, and I will not do it because I’m supposed to, I’ll do it because I want to. Because I know him better than you do, I care more for him than you ever have. Harry Potter’s safety may be the one thing we still agree on.”

“So you’ve reverted to your old ways?”

An insult, from Dumbledore himself. Merlin, he really is desperate to save face. 

“No, sir. With all due respect, I’m talking about the way that I would never endanger children. I would never steal them out of bed to freeze them under a lake, never tell teachers not to help them, and that is the difference between you and I. I may be the Slytherin in the room, but I’ve been told  _ you  _ are the darker of us two.”

Draco gets up before Dumbledore can recover, and as nice as it is to see his headmaster annoyed and fuming, he really does want to get back in bed now.

“Are we finished here?”

“I believe we are.”

Draco turns on his heel, LuLu trailing behind him. She doesn’t hiss, which means Dumbledore isn’t an enemy yet, and truthfully Draco doesn’t expect him to become one, but it’s nice to know he can be mouthy and honest without getting himself killed.

He has the sneaking suspicion that they’ll clash again, but for now he gets to say ‘checkmate’.

That is until Dumbledore calls out his name.

Draco looks behind him with no clue why his headmaster is smiling at him.

“For your bravery, loyalty, and general Slytherin attitude, I award Slytherin a hundred points.”

What the fuck.

On second thought, he has no fucking clue what Dumbledore is doing, but that’s nothing new, is it?

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They all promise to write, of course. Fleur hugs every one of them goodbye, kissing Draco and Luna’s cheeks just for good measure. Harry hates that she has to leave, he’s going to miss her. 

Krum has to wipe tears from Hermione’s eyes at the docks, they kiss slowly, like there aren’t hundreds of people around them, and Harry is very proud of Ron for not crying too. He instead hugs Fleur goodbye, making her promise to write, not to forget, and ‘yes I know you’re related to our prat, yes we’ll take care of him, shouldn’t you be saying this to his boyfriend?’ 

It’s a little heart-braking to watch the ship and the carriage disappear, a little saddening to know he’s another step closer to isolation.

Hogwarts students leave the next day, and since the cat is out of the bag, they don’t bother playing the hiding game. The original six of them cram into one compartment. Five minutes later and the door is sliding open again.

“You’re not reading, are you Blaise-Bear?” Theo chides, shoving Blaise over so he and Neville can sit down, “We’re here.”

“Yes, and you’re much more boring than my book.”

“You're a book about what, exactly?” Draco questions. Blaise never blushes, but he is giving Draco a rather murderous look. Roommates have no secrets, and Draco know the book may be charmed to say ‘murder’ but it’s really about Blaise’s favorite fictional couple, Rammond the Vampire and Edmund the Wizard. It’s only fair that Draco teases him about it, he’s never read the damn series and yet he knows the entire plot thanks to Blaise’s midnight gushes.

“Is it good?” Hermione asks, “I haven’t gotten any recommendations for summer reading.”

“You would enjoy summer reading-”

“Hey!” George and Fred pout, “No books! It’s summer!”

_ “No books?!”  _

Harry laughs, but he does duck so Hermione can cast an expansion charm for when the rest of them show up. It doesn't take long for their compartment to be filled and engrossed in a heated game of Wizard’s Go Fish. He can’t quite describe how much he’ll miss this.

The train stops far too soon.

Millie is the first to go, disappearing into the crowd with a wave and a smile.

Neville actually says ‘goodbye’ before sprinting off to the left.

Blaise kisses Hermione and Pansy’s cheeks, promising to floo over to Draco’s later. Pansy follows his lead after hugging everyone once. 

Luna surprises them all by kissing Ginny, who goes darker than her hair as her girlfriend flounces off into the sun.

“Well,” Draco eyes the twins exchanging money, “I have to say it was expected at some point.”

Ginny glares at him, but quickly gathers herself as a shadow falls upon the group.

They turn to see Narcissa, dark hair in a beautiful bun, skin as clear and perfect as ever, white dress seamlessly smooth and flowing all at the same time. 

“Good afternoon, it’s marvelous to see you all under better circumstances.”

Draco smiles at her, Harry for one, is  _ overjoyed  _ to see her. He doesn’t know why, but he really likes his boyfriend’s mum. She’s a badass.

“Harry,” Narcissa extends a hand so he takes it and kisses it like he’s seen on the TV. “You’re looking much better.”

“Yes, ma’am, Draco healed me up quite nicely.”

“It’s only my job.”

He has an overwhelming urge to stick his tongue out, but they have to go. Narcissa has plans for the evening, and no one likes to stand and wait, so Harry kisses them both goodbye, Draco on the lips and Narcissa on the hand. 

Watching Draco’s back get smaller hurts a lot more than he cares to admit.

“You’ll be okay for a few months, won’t you?” Ron asks.

He has to say yes, to remind himself that it’s only a few months. Mrs. Weasley promises to get him early, she gives him a dozen kisses, Mr. Weasley even hugs him. Hermione makes sure he has his magical cellphone before they leave and Harry’s standing there looking at a car and a familiarly ugly and unhappy face.

It’s only a few months.

He fought Riddle and lived again.

He was tied to a gravestone.

He watched his boyfriend’s dad get his arm cut off.

How awful can this really be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Sorry this took so long, I like to post the first chapter of the next fic when I post the last chapter of a fic in a series so people can keep going and it's not really an end. (plus i'm low key scared people won't read it if I don't) Anyways! I hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thought and I'll see you in the next fic!


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